Member-only story
Harry & Me: Chapter 1
Two Writers Meet on a Beach.
October 30, 2049–10:49 AM
Two miles north of Depot Bay, Oregon
When I was a kid, I loved camping on the beach. Then it was a luxury, a break from the normal. It was fun. At forty-eight, with an arthritic hip, it’s not as much fun. As a homeless man, sleeping on the beach isn’t a break from the normal; it is the normal.
This area, on the north side of Depot Bay, is my favorite. It is raw. My campsite sits against a bluff. It’s mostly boulders, black and brown dirt, white sand, and a disheartening amount of litter. Luckily for me, it’s a seldom-used stretch of beach. It is less than ‘beautiful.’ At least it is in a conventional way. There are dozens of boulders. They’re giant squat things. None of their colors are appealing, I suppose. But they are natural. I see them as ancient creatures that move far too slow for human perception. I feel them watching me. They inspire me and fill me with creativity and joy. I think about naming the slabs. But that strikes me as arrogant. Thus far, I’ve not named them.
There are scraggly bushes that add a splash of green. The bluff blocks the morning sun, which is useful for the days I like to sleep late.
Traffic on the 101 is steady. But the sounds are never too disruptive. For the most part, the…
