At the Graveyard of the Atlantic




This piece was a long time coming.  It started on a lonely night in August of 2002.  I had gone to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a little beach escape and had already had the thrill of getting caught in a rip tide and then getting nearly eaten alive by swarms of ravenous mosquitoes.  I spent the final night of my stay in my motel room, drinking beer and watching a Cardinals game on ESPN.  When the game was over, I felt antsy. Something was incomplete.  I went out to take a walk by the beach and quickly became entranced by a beam of moonlight that stretched across the surface of the dark ocean.  I can't fully explain the insanity that drove me out into the sea, determined to stand on the edge of that moonbeam.  I can say that I haven't been the same since.  And I'm grateful for it.  It took me a decade to transform this experience into published prose.  Many thanks to the editors of Prime Number for their continued support.

 http://www.primenumbermagazine.com/Issue23_PrimeDecimals2.html#anchor_535


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