#anyway then I woke up because my neighbor bumbed his giant truck into the wall

[wild-west-wind]

I dreamt last night about a beach in the middle of nowhere, the northern shores, where towering cliffs stood sentinel over the black seas. I drove as far as I could, then walked. I don’t remember the walking, just the tension in my muscles, the dull throbs of pain.

Soon I arrived at the coast, in the distance farm houses, most long since abandoned, cold and dark, and on the cliff’s edge, a pub. I pass them all by, and descend along a narrow path to the beach.

On this beach, scattered among the sands, are rings. Most simple bands of tarnished metal, some battered into crescents and segments by the waves. All along the cliff walls sandstone erodes revealing new treasures. Signet rings, high school graduation rings immediately recognizable but bearing no legible script, save years long since past, or yet to pass. Precious few diamonds sticks out of the white sands, the rare travelers to this place taking them most greedily.

I remember, after a long day of digging, sitting in the pub on the cliffside. The men and women have wind chafed skin, they drink in silence, facing away from the windows I find myself so drawn to. The beer they serve is bitter and warm. I am looking for something here. I don’t know what, but I know I’ll recognize it when I find it.

I’m digging again. I feel the sand grinding against my cracked hands. These rings in the earth dance across my finger tips as I go. Tears well in my eyes. The tide rises, kicking up wedding bands and costume jewelry and ruined mood rings in their wake. I don’t move from its crashing waves. They roil around my feet. I watch the water come and grid away at the cliff walls, freeing more useless junk from the the rock there.

I don’t know if I found what I was looking for. All day it’s felt like part of me was still looking.

#anyway then I woke up because my neighbor bumbed his giant truck into the wall #and it made a loud scary bang