número tres

I had only been in the hammock for five hours but my back hurt. I could even see in the distorted reflection of the sun-faded side of the Coca-cola refrigerator that my back was a lattice of tanned skin with crimson hexagonal veins. It was beautiful.
–José, una chela porfa—
I flopped down on to the sand and buried my feet until I hit the cool under-layer. The waves made their familiar crashing sound and a small crinkle formed at the corners of my mouth. José came and brought me a beer and a fish taco with extra hot sauce. Awesome.

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2 comments

  1. Thanks! Wish I were there riiiiiiight nooooow. 🙂

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