There is a faint roaring, but no wind. Surf.  I gather stones from around my feet and throw lthem out into the mist, sounding the depths of the air. Somewhere in front of me the stones disappear,  clattering far below. I crawl forward,  stones sharp under my hands and knees until suddenly the earth ends and the mist roils over the edge to join the spray from the surf below.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s