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Fiction

Other Times

I miss light on the Pacific at sun set. It is both the place and time I miss.

The slowing hour when sand becomes painful, skin smolders, the check arrives for your day in the sun and sand and surf.

The time of gathering up, of family packing and leave taking. Adults with their small versions of themselves, angry at the loss of time yet grateful for the complaints. A hard days’ work loaded into secure boxes for safe travels home. Their exhausted young imitating crabs. They reward them (and themselves) with DQ.

There is a pact between parents and their young in this light. The pact that says, “you did good work at being today. I did good work at letting you.”

A shared secret between creators, the true lesson for offspring.

This day was hard, all days are hard, but in this light, we are grateful for the living.