The sunlight on the waves looked like diamonds. Curvy peaks, unsettled by the tide. A banner flew in the sky advertising alcoholic seltzer and my hands felt weightless. My legs look so pale underneath the water. On the beach, the radio blasted “Saturday in the park / I think it was the Fourth of July.” Salt water puckered on my tongue but your mouth felt so clean and soft.
On the way home, our train car was empty. The sunset made squares of light on the orange seats. I watched a plane flying out of the airport.
Written August 14th, 2015
I’ve wanted to go to the beach all summer but everyone always goes on Saturdays when I work, so today I went by myself. I got the keys to my new apartment yesterday and I should really be moving my things in, but I have two weeks to do it and I think I’m going though an internal change right now – coming out of something or maybe coming into something, I don’t know – I just wanted to write and go to the beach as much as possible before it gets cold. Continue reading “Notes From Rockaway Beach”