It is 1983. I'm 18 years old and standing on the black sand of a Pacific coast beach. Its not quite what I expected but the wildness of it has me charmed. Driftwood is strewn along the beach and piled up haphazardly like it was thrown off a mountain(more) by an angry god. The air smells like salt from an unknown sea.
My companion is a friend from college, just 21 and already getting a divorce. I don't even remember his name. We walk along in the late afternoon, gray clouds drifting and massing, while gulls screech. I want to say the gulls sound lonely but I'm the one that's lonely, not the birds.
My friend chatters happily. He's glad to get away from school for a few days. I try to listen but I'm stressed about a paper due on Monday. The wind is blowing hard and we bow into it, resisting. We find the head of a shark at our feet, and we poke at it like a couple of curious kids.
Soon we head back to the car and put up a tent, where we'll spend the night before the long drive back to Olympia. I'm hoping to see a sunset over the ocean, my first one. Finally I can see just the faintest point of orange light teasing its way through the clouds. That's it. I go to sleep to the sound of waves.(less)
you have up to 300 words. what will you say?The entire west coast has gone dark. It kinda scares me how quickly it's moving. It's outpacing the exodus of people, feeding on their fear and flesh. Whatever it is, this blackness, it's consuming our world faster than we can(more) run from it and that scares me a lot. Hopefully it doesn't eat journals, I want someone to read this some day.(less)