up

It was grey and cold and drizzly. The beach was bare and the boardwalk was deserted.

Except for me and My Lovely One. (And a man.)

Standing on the pier, arm swinging from under him, wildly throwing small bits of bread into the dark skies above. Seagulls swooping, scooping his gifts, mid-air.

His joy gushing, bursting, erupting, (lifting me up).