The last step off the porch is a longer drop when you are off the side near the yard. “Be careful” is the words of whoever is leading the way, headlamp held above their head; lighting the way mostly for themselves, but giving scraps of light to some soggy shoes behind them.
I can hear toes making out in wet socks, or maybe making the sounds of dogs tongues lapping up wet dog food.
The windows of the house are all shapes that end in sides divided by 2. Maybe because some windows are meant to be gazed out by a couple at a time, or 4 people or an army of twins. People that look out at the same ocean, sand familiar between them, but not knowing each other's faces as they are forever waiting for a sunset that never comes. Or was it a sunrise?
Inside an airstream a short distance away nails steal hats from heads and there is the feeling that a spiritual process is captured in clay. It’s good to remember at times like this that objects can repel evil or be an attractor for love, but rarely do they do both.
The sky is clear with a cloud grumbling over a small hill, speaking of the cold front of water being dragged in on the backs of jellyfish.