No Ingress
Twisted lumber reveals a time less placid and I cannot help
but stare. The storm has left these
people with no way down to the beach.
Oh, the humanity.
Below
the stairs to nowhere, boards and screws litter the ground, filling in recent
footprints left behind. They are part of
the landscape now, no longer taming it. Even the gulls want no part of this carcass. Driftwood to driftwood, sand to sand.
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