#rosemarv

Tait was seated on piece of driftwood as he unzipped his surfboard’s carrying bag. The sun was just over the horizon, bathing the waterfront in soft golds, oranges and pinks. It was the quiet of a peaceful morning. He set down his board and began to zip up his wet suit. To his surprise he glanced up to see a young woman walking along the waterfront. “Didn’t expect to see anyone else up so early.” 

It’s October and mist settles between the mountains—a blanket of ghost souls, maybe.

We turn our playlists into low and pulsing r&b, inviting spirits into our souls the same way we let mates into our dorms.

Sunrise, sunset. Moonrise, moonset. Dawn and evening filtering through fall, stripping summer from our bodies like the green from tree leaves. Leaves us shit-faced, tired, aching for more.

For more of what?

Your skin used to be so warm but I think November is a bitch, stole your sunlight like I stole your sweatshirt. Threw it in the wash but another kid threw it back out.

Remind me, how many different card games did we play? Bullshit, overlord, just to name two. Slapped our hands against each other in the rush, touching only in accident. Only causing pain.