Nobody Walks On The Beach In January

I opened the car door and stepped out of the vehicle. The wind was too much, it was almost deafening. I shut the door behind me and slowly walked across the sand. The beach in the dead of winter in New England was as depressing as it sounds. All the colors that usually seem like a 1950’s Cinemascope in Technicolor production were all muted and dull. The skies, the ocean, the sand pebbles were all as if I had strolled into a grainy black and white silent film classic. This really seemed like the proper place for me. I approached the shore line. The waves were rather large with whitecaps. The wind was even more intense. I decided to talk a walk along the beach to take one last look at the old money, historic, grandiose mansions that lined it.

I walked into the cold winds. I continued smoking my cigarettes. I could not see a single person anywhere as I trudged forward. It felt as if there was an Apocalypse and I was the only person left. Or perhaps this was some sort of a purgatory where I was destined to roam endlessly and never actually live or die, just be in a constant state of limbo. I enjoyed the cold winds, it made me feel something which was odd because the temperature was more numbing than anything else. As I continued to walk, I did not feel any peace or less stress, I felt like my luck had run out. All the lucky streaks I  had in my life were all used up, it was like I had depleted all my wishes from the genie’s bottle. If I had no luck left, what was the point in anything? I needed some luck otherwise every gamble would turn to shit, like a Bizarro King Midas.

I reached the end of the shore. I could not walk any further. If I were to continue I would have to swim. I stood at the endpoint staring into the ocean. I smoked a few more cigarettes. I watched the seagulls buzz around doing nothing. Seagulls are like the welfare birds of the bird kingdom, they have a huge ocean to eat from, but would rather beg to be fed by humans, this was their season that they needed to actually work. I lit up my last cigarette and walked into the water. It was ice cold. It seemed like hypothermia automatically set in. I has no other choice. I was already in too deep. It was too late to go back. What was the point? It was perfect, nobody walks on the beach in January. I extinguished my cigarette and continued to submerge myself  into the water.

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