Spirits dwell here.

I can feel them in the chill of the evening. I see them in the morning fog that thoughtlessly rolls across the bay. They live on the rugged cliff line & in the dampness of the breeze. They often remind me of someone I knew once, perhaps in another life.

No one ever leaves here…not even in death. Because heaven may be beautiful but will it have a seaview? Will there be music in the sunset? Will the waves ebb & crash on the shoreline? You see, there’s no flow here, nothing so fluid or poetic. Ebb & crash! I bet it flows in heaven, how boring.