Squint

The waves never stopped hammering into the pebble beach, that was the injustice of it. They never faded into background noise, they never crept along the bay: it was always violent as if to taunt him. Well to hell with the waves, with the sea itself. He stared back at it as wind and age fractured his skin, as salt collected in the crow’s feet, as the waves smashed down with gleeful abandon. No matter how he wished or squinted or looked askance, there was nothing heading back over that horizon and there never would be.

~ Leland V, 2015

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