fragments I

i’m not sure where this one is. i’m not sure where any of them are, in relation to anything else at least. no country, no city. this one at least was at a beach, somewhere. and it was night.

i remember the sound of the waves crashing on the shoreline and the sound of the wind whipping through the sand and the seagrass in the dunes.

i remember the single floodlight on the combined corner store and lifeguard storage block washing everything in that typical harsh, cheap, stark white glare that comes bundled with the local council’s constant drive to keep costs down.

i remember where the edge of the dunes met the road, there was no kerb, and wooden logs were lodged into the sand every so often, with more logs bolted to them horizontally to stop cars getting in.

i remember the stars were bright, and there were warm lights behind me, so i have to guess the beach road was a residential road. there wasn’t much other noise around, no cars, no parties. no streetlights either.

it was a very comfortable kind of temperature. i was wearing a thin long sleeved shirt and jeans, i think. i couldn’t quite keep my hair out of my face thanks to the wind.

i remember i sat just past the log barriers on the sand.

i remember i was sitting with a girl. i think she had green eyes. very, very green eyes.

i don’t remember what we said. but i remember feeling sorry for her. a kind of quiet desperation. i think something was wrong with her, or her life. i get the feeling i wanted to help, but my hands were tied.

and somehow, i get the sense that whatever was wrong at the time wasn’t that big of a deal. which means, somehow, i’m looking back on this memory. so this is a memory of a memory.

and it’s not even mine. neither of them are.

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