April 5
The Imposter
I haven't visited
that beach in
ages. It used to terrify
me: I'd imagine
jellyfish as big as tablecloths
lurking globulous below
the surface. I don't
look scared here, though,
smiling, six, with my
father, our sand
castle half constructed.
He's smiling too, one lean
finger curled ineluctably into
the breast pocket of
a shirt that is forever
untucking.
I haven't visited
that beach in
ages. It used to terrify
me: I'd imagine
jellyfish as big as tablecloths
lurking globulous below
the surface. I don't
look scared here, though,
smiling, six, with my
father, our sand
castle half constructed.
He's smiling too, one lean
finger curled ineluctably into
the breast pocket of
a shirt that is forever
untucking.
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