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It’s the salt on my lips that reminds me where I am. The crashing and swishing fills my ears. Frothy cool and soothing my toes. A small orange crab creeps past my feet. Sloshing and splashing, slamming on the sand. Constant, moving, changing, White, green, blue – bubbly I stretch my legs out into the expanse of the world. I’m touching Spain or Italy with my toes. It’s the world I’m touching. One shelf, falling off into the deep blue, But I am touching the world. I’m traveling the world, just with my toes.
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