DAWN
Seagulls, a gaggle smear of white-grey on the tan sand stare at you. You pass by behind the scene, an extra on a movie screen and the birds, the theatergoers. Unlike theatergoers, they care not for your drama, your middle, your end of three-part Aristotelian art. You pass; they scatter; they return as the waves remove your footprints.
Sun diamonds shimmer in the distance alerting the cool air to give one last attempt at temperature, and this gives your nose a final refreshing blast, the remainder of the cool air. Your lungs fill as you too feel the struggle, the hopelessness of the day to come.
A wave crashes, an alarm reflector of dawn’s first light. The day has begun.
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