I spotted her from down the other end of the shore– a sweet sea foam green beach cruiser. She was nestled in the sand next to a girl that must have been her owner. A girl as beautiful and as shiny as her bike. She had blonde hair and when she laughed she threw her hair back ceremoniously and cackled. It was the kind of laugh where you expected to and wanted to get noticed

In the flicker of dawn, when morning light drenched the beams with turmeric golden light, that was when I walked the bridge. During these times, the bridge reminded me of a foil wrapped gold bar, that I could unpeel as the rays of sun shifted their light along the path of my walk.

From my vantage point in the café I stare outside at the greyscape, watching the mechanical rhythm of the outside world move through the air. Click clack click clack I imagine their boots go. Pearls of raindrops prick the concrete cement and erupt into splashes of little lakes.  The trucks and cars go by, their tires gliding a top the water, fanning water like wings, reminding me of a peacock flashing her feathers.

The waves smacked against the dock, ricocheting back momentarily only to barrel forwards again, roaring with a thunderous fury. I sat on the bench, transfixed by their motion, by their wrath, feeling miles away from this world. A lone seagull shifted her beak towards me, perfectly still, peacefully gliding the wake of the white water. Then the sea quieted, and I was here again.

Bright, bombastic, brilliant. Red like pin-up lipstick. Careening through the sky like a lobbed missile. They sounded like gun shots, but the discomfort on the ear was swiftly mitigated by the feast on the eyes as they erupted into the air.

Colors splashed across the sky, a smattering of everything, a fistful of candy bursting out like confetti - cherry red skittle, jolly rancher purple, mystery flavor white, lemonade pink starbust.

Summer came and went, slowly fading into fall like a wisp of strong breeze. The mornings feel mintier now, a shock to my system. School’s back in session, hurried parents in the AM, rushing with colorful backpacks, pulling their children along to class on their way to work.

I would let the maple syrup and honey goo climb up my skin, I’d sit back into it, I’d roll around in it, I’d wade in it with my rainboots. I’d dip each of my tiny little fingers into the golden vat of sticky and lick each on clean. My mother didn’t like this behavior too much.

It was too late by the time I saw it coming. The ball sailed through the sky (pummeled is more like it) - 5, 4, 3, 2 1…

Smack in my face. The soccer ball smacked me in my face. Owe. Glasses cracked in half. Crunch. I taste metal? Maybe I’m just hungry. No, dizzy I think. People starting. Braces, glasses, *crunch*, OW! I feel so self-conscious.