A new day and an old memory

The sun turns Patty’s legs pink as she reads what John wrote in the bright sunshine on the beach.

My two thoughts on the day at dawn.

‘The sun rose red over the Atlantic. Lines of crimson spread on thin clouds as if the day was a page for me to write whatever I wanted to on.’

Or

‘The sun looked like a red bullet…red lines streaming out…like my dad’s blood on our blue carpet.

Patty

‘You shouldn’t show some of your thoughts John.’

John

‘I want to put it all out there. I had both thoughts as I saw the red sun rise over the Atlantic. One was beautiful and one surprised me…that memory is always there. I always think I see him in a crowd…I don’t usually think of the last way I saw my dad.’

Patty

‘Oh.’

John

‘But I chose to focus on the new thought…not the memory.  It made me think I’m ok…cause I still feel good about the possibilities. I mean I am in that young writer employment thing with the agency in NYC.’

Patty

‘I wish you never saw what you saw.’

John looks at the lines of blue waves endlessly moving towards shore. Are they moving from eternity or towards it?

‘I think we’re lucky to be alive…whatever we see. Or make sense of or not make sense of. ..life is an experience or group of them…I guess.’

Thanks for reading my thoughts. I’m going to go surf. Are you ok?’

Patty

‘Are you?’

John

‘No. That’s why I write. Annnd surf.’

John smiles and runs into the waves…

Patty thinks of how surfers seem eternal…like they’ll be doing that long after she’s gone. Surfing to something…or someone.