i collected seashells by the shore. they were teal and salmon and mustard yellow.
a fat woman stepped on my them. they were in a pile on a ledge near the shore. I found a better one. it had ashtray potential.
the water was a louder clapping silver here. the tide pulled me in.



which makes me remember...

being on the beach in france, if france was a truman show type carnival. instead of sand there were glass beads. i thought of all the money i would make selling jewelry made from things i got for free.

i was with someone and we were sexing near the water. the beads made that weird squeaking, gritty sound they make when wet and rubbed together.