Fall 2021
Dreaming of a Spanish Morning Lindsey McCormack Gold flakes of moonlight glistened atop the sea as waves swooshed monotonously against the shoreline. I sat high up in a lifeguard tower looked out at the ocean scene, imagined fish dancing in the golden spotlights beneath the waves. A cool breeze rippled against my skin, against the tide, it soothed me, settled me into my spot atop the tower. I closed my eyes, let the salt air fill my sinuses allowed the waves to become white noise permitted the breeze to form goosebumps upon my sweaty skin. Across the Atlantic morning was breaking in Spain. Someone was watching the sunrise over the ocean that lay in front of me, tide moving in the opposite direction I wished to stay there all night until the breeze had atrophied my skin with sand, until the smell of seaweed became potent, until the dancing fish lost their spotlights, until the sun was rising for me, until the tide was headed back towards Spain.
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