Under the Ocean, Over the Stars

Goals for This Week:

1. Do not burn my tongue on any hot liquids.
2. Remember that every option is actually the best, no doors actually close, and the good rolls on forever and ever.

Our last night at the resort, Nac fell asleep very early. I changed into pajamas and quietly brushed my teeth in the kitchenette. We left the balcony door open all weekend--letting the salt water smell and the waves' chops float in. I closed the door for the night and tip-toed to my bed. But, then, I rethought, gathered up the comforter, and went back to the living room. I reopened the balcony sliding door to a huge whoosh of North Carolina breeze. I pushed the sofa from the middle of the room to the balcony's opening.

I curled up and watched the moon creep across the sky.

I dreamed I was under the ocean. Sea shells. I woke up to the pink just beginning to peek over the horizon. I stretched my legs, squinty-eyed shuffled outside, and watched the puddle of tangerine lift itself into the day.

Eventually Nac woke up and joined me. Eating Life in our deck chairs, he asked, "So, how was sleeping on the beach?"