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The coffee house on the corner of Westchester and Pine sat on the busiest corner of town. Some believed it brought balance to this old college town. Majority of all the businesses now all looked like they didn’t belong modeled after old studio backlots from an era when dramas were top money makers. On the inside it felt like a little piece of London was on loan for casual hook ups and coffee from all around the world.
- The Hand of the Sea
The peak of each wave rolled off onto another forming arched shapes, like the sails of a thousand ships all tumbling over each other in unison. They appeared to be dancing with one another in the wind teetering the vessel from port to starboard. Reflections of the moon could barely be caught off tip of each peak under the darkened sky. The motion lasted long enough for the stomachs of those on board to get as close enough to settling, but never quite getting there, leaving the most dizzying disorienting sensation. It was not long before the excess weight in the stern hit the wake of something below. Just enough to begin to lean fore, changing the sway completely. The weight returned almost immediately to the back of the ship only to repeat itself creating an intolerable motion sickness even for the most seasoned of seafaring. Something this crew was definitely lacking.
- Silence Aware
I felt a warm jolt on the table. Quickly looking around nothing could be seen. There were no cargo trucks passing outside the building and no construction going on. It was actually calm and quiet inside and out. Placing my hand back on the table I felt it again, stronger. I noticed my hand felt warm, it was cupping the cardboard coffee cup. The top layer of foam was stirring, below boiling bubbles were reaching the surface. My coffee was bubbling over, what the hell? I pushed out against the desk rolling my chair back and got to my feet. My head began to pound, as I stood the pressure in the room rose causing my head to spin.
- Twisted Limbs
Wrapped and curled around one another as if they each held onto something unique. Something they protected, or something to be kept close and private. At a closer look each limb appeared to be cupping something at the tip of each branch. Spiraling, twisting, turning and grasping onto something… something unseen.
Light poured into their darkened slumber, stealing the last great moments of a deep sleep. Now forced to open their eyes, to be overcome with the bright light of the morning sunrise. What a sunrise it was! The sound of seagulls gawking over the open sea. Jared looked on as the bird soared close to the water dipping the tips of its wings in as it turned, propped up on his forearm still laying on his side in the sand.