Return

I’d been landlocked for a while now. More than long enough that my creativity was dry to the touch, despite the humid heavy summer air. Greedy for more moisture, the air stole the last of the ocean from my memory, as distant waves and swirling sea spray sentences evaporated. I had forgotten my process. Step behind the waterfall into the center of myself, to where I always found them. One word. Two. I could feel the rain coming. Crystalline drops of brackish materializing in the haze. Less humid, and more salt. Words wrapped in water eddying around my feet.