When I dream of him, I see him standing at the water’s edge with a peaceful smile on his face. He looks out at the horizon, dressed in his usual khakis and white button-down, not seeming to notice that his pants are wet to the knees. I almost forget that he’s no longer weighed down by the heaviness of living.
All of the other beachgoers completely ignore him. Surely, someone would have noticed a man walking into the ocean fully clothed. I guess it’s more likely he was wearing swim trunks, but I never saw him that way. Always with his business casual uniform and a slight, hidden smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw me, like he was amused by his own personal joke.
I feel an insect land on my arm and begin to help itself to my blood. My eyes instinctively try…
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