.10.

There is always a beach and a lighthouse. The light swings as it should, around and around, and you can watch it glint with every turn. Except it never falls on the sand, just on you. You may walk, but there is no end to the dunes, nowhere to return but to the sea. A sea that, you will realize, as you always realize, does not move and does not sing. Touch the water and it is cold as water should be, but never leave your hand in too long as it creeps up your arm. The fog rolls in from the ocean, the fog has always been there, curling around your heels like it can keep you from moving on. Maybe it can. Even if you remember sun and laughter and love, there’s nowhere to go. Stay. Be watched by the lighthouse.