It is a beautiful evening out. The sun has dropped low towards the horizon. Its reflection off the bay is so brilliant it hurts to look, but I can’t help myself.
People are out walking around in shorts and sandals. They are smiling. I don’t know where they are going. They don’t seem to care. I don’t think they see the destination as the point right now, and I can’t help but agree with them on that.
I would like to kick off my shoes and revel in a pointless activity, but I must write, because I have something to say and it will only be said if I finish the book. I want to live in the moment this evening, though. I guess that means I’ll just have to learn how to do that writing. Here I go…