Off the beach there was a stretch leading out into the palm tree oasis. You can imagine what the clouds must think looking down on all this natural glory, and you can only imagine what the sand mites must think looking up at all of us clobbering and curious wanderlusters.
Searching for new reads?
Poetry about Strange Cars or maybe a fictional novel journal about a Dioramist protagonist who struggles with a passion for writing and a former love? Be sure to check out my published wares on Amazon if you’re interested.
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