Journaling on Westport Beach, Washington
Late August 2014
I could see a mirage of the town I grew up in (Westport, CT), 3000 miles across an imaginary ocean as I smoked a joint on the damp sand and listened to that calm steady current hit land- I couldn’t resist putting my hand in the water. Somewhere in the fog you could hear the rumbling of a boat motor and the persistent monotone signal coming from the watch tower that guided me there.
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