The waves rolled over the tops of the houses. I watched the saplings struggle against the winds, from the window of my car. The tide rolled in, roiling the surface of the gathering sky, leaving behind frothy clouds, while moving across the surface. The waves tumbled, crashing in on themselves, dispersing the mixture of air and cloud onto the shore.
A line of red lights streamed off into the distance, ahead of me with reverse currents of white lights pushing the outflow of commuters from the city. I sat in morning traffic, with my windows down, watching the wakes from the bottom of the boats overhead, break the surface of the sky.
I hoped that she was thinking of me, thinking to come back to me. If only I had shown her more love. If I had given her more attention, I would have awakened next to her this morning.
With no way to bridge the divide, isolated on the other side of time. It’s just another morning commute in the town of Bikini Bottom.
by malakhai jones
(c) Copyright 2016