Ocean Isle

It is snowing again. It is always snowing here. I am almost to the point that I can't stand it anymore.


I am standing on the deck of our beach house in North Carolina. Night has finally fallen but it's still warm. There are stars and ocean and sand for miles all around us. The only lights you can see come naturally from the sky or from other beach houses. The only noises are the waves lapping up to the shore and people laughing and singing in the distance.

My aunt, Vicky, stands in front of me, beer in hand. She's not actually my aunt, but she is. Vicky has been friends with my family since she and my Aunt Anne were in college together. I have known her since I was born.
"You should really read this book," she tells me. She reaches over to the glass table next to us and hands me a paperback. I can smell the alcohol on her, even though she's only a little tipsy. It mixes beautifully with the scent of salt and sand and her perfume. Vicky runs her hand through her bleached bangs, and adjusts the sheathe dress she has on. All of her clothes are bought off the Home Shopping Network. Even in the dim light shed on us from the living room inside, I can see her tanned face light up and her thin lips curve into a smile.
"You're a beach child, you know?" She sips her beer and I nod knowingly. "This book is all poems about the beach and feeling at one with yourself and nature at the beach. You grew up coming here, this book is definitely for you." I tell her I'm excited to read it.
"You are so smart, so talented. You are going to go places, girl. I can feel it, you know? I can just feel that you are going to do big things. Your dad would be so proud of you."


In my head I am already at the beach. It is already 85 degrees and sunny and I am back in that moment, when I am whole and one with my favorite place. Fuck the Midwest, I want to go home.