write one
Published in

write one

One day I stood at the ocean’s edge. It was winter, I was the only one on the beach. I wore a thick, long Green Bay Packers jacket over a sweatshirt and jeans. I had no gloves, no boots, no hat. The day was frigid, there were thin layers of ice where water had settled on the shore. A fierce wind whipped around me. My face went numb, my hands stiff with cold. I stood. I watched angry waves push in and pull out, layers of them, flattening out and curling back up again.

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