When the hours old ugly silence, the electric tension between us three hits the humid, beachy air, it sparks and lights a smoky fire in my mind and I can’t see straight. Suddenly I’m yelling how can you do this to us to me why did he have to come you know it’s only ever been us just us you know he’ll just leave again as soon as we get home do you really truly honestly think this trip will make a damned difference?! It’s only ever been us, but now I don’t even know if there’s that because Momma is crying, curled up on the sand and strands of silver hair that weren’t on her head two months ago are glinting in the moonlight that bounces off the waves and her husband is walking away. Again.

The End

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