Ever since the Black Beach I have been searching for something that can take me back. I just want to see the waves crashing on the rocks, Mason next to me, both of us a lost boy at sea. Because I just want to feel again. Anymore it’s fleeting, the way it comes, the way it goes. And I don’t think about it all the time, but when I do? I am left to ask myself: where have I been going? I’ve been chasing a trail of kicked up sand, that ends at the water and starts at the van.