Memories of moments fade away
But again the things you see before you wake – Jacco Gardner
The desk light is on, my wristwatch shows 3:31 AM, and the house is silent.
I step out, through the french doors, and onto the deck overlooking the grainy, faded shoreline.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I start making out the shapes of other houses near the water, tracing their sharp edges in the dark.
The sound of a radio playing Neil Young out in the distance sounds faint from where I’m standing. Though I can’t make out from where exactly, laughter rides the cool breeze of the ocean, and then the clink of glasses cuts through the night.