I wonder how there are no bugs when me and Christina are only four steps away from the sea, poking two bags of boiling Shin Ramen with wooden chopsticks and disposable forks. It is 3 A.M., but the land is so flat, I think I can see the sun peeking behind the surface, waiting for the two of us to fall asleep so that she can begin her act. The greatest play ever. Every day is her leading roll, but the night is her curtain, an interlude for the stars,
Look at me,
I am the brightest.
No, me.
No- we are most beautiful when we shine together.
I close my eyes and let them sing me to sleep.
When I open my eyes the car is filled with orange and red and yellow. I think I am inside a grapefruit. I close my eyes again, but I can still see. I see blood orange then black, orange again. I open my eyes and see a boat passing by. The two fishermen load crab traps onto the dock while we eat breakfast. Avocados, tomatoes, mangoes, blueberry yogurt with honey. We spit salted pistachio shells into a white styrofoam cup. An early bird circles around us and I ‘accidentally’ drop a fruit, but Christina thinks it’s still ok to eat since it landed on the skin. Well, I think, the bird may catch a fish, there are plenty of fish in the sea, but maybe there aren’t because the crab traps are empty so we talk about plastic, Starbucks and straws, how important cleanliness is, and how it’s next to godliness. That it’s a blessing to even have fruit to drop for the birds underneath the beaming sun.
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