Word Count: 99
In a low-slung beach chair, my legs yawned. Toes wriggled the warm, dry liquid. Ankles offered a tasty feast for sand fleas.
The afternoon sun, a potent narcotic, infused me with blissful intoxication. Imagining namaste, I silently greeted the waves.
Half-mast, my languid gaze followed the gulls poking the shoreline’s grit, seeking bounty from the sea.
A drinking bird desk toy floated through my mind.
Groggy in this driftwood state, the nearby volleyball match was a remote din. When their wayward ball rolled to my feet, I made no move to retrieve it.
My sandcastles were too far away.