draub's profile

The tall, expressionless man that always sleeps against the vine covered brick wall in front of the cemetery decides to go to the beach today. He settles himself at the end of a long weathered dock. Haze hovers lazily over the water and the early morning air smells of rotting fish and sea salt. It is grey and overcast, the spectrum of color limited to that of an old faded photograph that has been over handled and has lost the picture of vivacity it once had. The tall man had come here hoping ...