Do you have any secrets? Is there anything you’ve been meaning to get off your chest? Already beginning with cliches and odd questions, I know. 1,099 more words
The paint on the metal railing is peeling. I look past it, over the revolving-bed hotels, by-the-week tenements, abandoned shipping terminals, to the sea.
Calm today, the gray water fades into a hazy, blurred horizon, signaling an overcast morning marked by the unbearable heat and humidity of midsummer. 130 more words