She walked slowly up the beach. Shells scrunched beneath her shoes and the smell of salt and surf was thick on the air. Water lapped the edges of the barnacle covered rocks. Shore birds cried to the wind. She was always searching for just the right one. Laying on a sun-warmed rock was a battered comic book. It's Batman vs. The Hulk. Weighed down with a larger rock, the thin coloured pages flap in the breeze. The sun beams its friendly heat and Anna removes her black leather jacket, laying it on a boulder. She leans against her coat, closes her eyes and tilts her head back. Looking through her wide lense sunglasses everything has a copper tinge. A stray gust of wind sends an abandoned soap box tumbling down the beach, a reminder of the cleanliness of emptiness, an emptiness she is struggling to summon. The rubber soles of her shoes were missing the foot pegs of her motorcycle parked at the beginning of her hike. The postcard poking out of the inner pocket of her jacket fills her with longing and hope. She would not tell her kid-sister just yet about the cancer. Hazel would make it home soon enough and then Anna would tell her. Her sister should enjoy her travels without the burden of her older sister standing in the way. Across the gentle waves the tide comes in and a motorcycle defies the inevidability of life as it roars away from the ocean of inner sadness toward the hills of tomorrow.
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