Over the summer his mother left him at the beach. He’d walk over the shingle, past the spidery cluster of sticks that was once a yacht, to a spot beneath the cliffs. While he was reading a man came up and asked if he wanted to wrestle. He looked up at the man, surprised, and replied « where ? » The man pointed to some ground beyond the beach. We never found his body.
October 10, 2012
