I went for a walk on the beach with Kendon. A light breeze caressed our faces as we strolled, hand in hand, and let the water splash our bare feet. Then we looked into each other’s eyes and knew exactly what the other was thinking.
War.
I bent down and scooped up the biggest ball of sand my palms would contain, and he did the same. Then I chased him. Then he chased me. Then I got sand in my mouth and in my ears and on my face and in my hair and down my back. The fight continued. I got sand down my pants. It continued some more. I got sand in my eyes. The war raged on, and finally I managed to toss some small sand granules on Kendon’s precious American Eagle t-shirt, so then it was time to go home.
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