I took these while standing on top of my van after it broke down at the beach. There certainly are worse places to break down. I had gone to the same beach on Monday, but when I got there on Friday it felt completely different. I was alone this time, but surrounded. When I had gone that Monday the beach was deserted leaving my friend and I together and alone simultaneously. Now everyone was around and I was by myself. I didn't even want to be there anymore, but I couldn't leave. I sat and read, was briefly interrupted by the man whose BMW I had parked behind. (I say parked, but it was really the first place I was able to coast to after my engine died.) I think back with a smile on my face remembering Seattle.
"Are you reading a book on how to live?"
"Oh, it's poetry."
"Ah. Hm. I see. You should be reading down there by the beach where all the pretty girls are."
And so on, back and forth. We shook hands without exchanging names.
I found a garage that wouldn't be open until the next Monday, sat back and stayed there all weekend.
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