The high tide is slowly taking up space on the beach. The sun is already set and sharing its last brush strokes on a charmingly mellow sky. The sound of waves is crashing on the adjacent temple’s steps and, by no sheer coincidence, rumbles among the tables of people taking a five.
The last surfers are already gone on this Sunday evening. The smell of salt and instant noodle soup as well as freshly lit cigarettes drill the nose. Nobody is in a rush. There are no expectations. The time carries itself among the greedy ocean water.
SAUDADE
reminders keep showing up
drawing more attention
not minding the time
and calling out
significance
gratitude
memories
longing
values
grief.
###
the messages almost sent
the words almost spoken
the conversations that
never happened
the feelings
never felt
endings.
nightly explorations