Did karma do you justice when you're down and out and lost?
The rain eased off after four o'clock, but until I got to Chapin Beach I still thought I would be making an affectionately overcast farewell to Cape Cod Bay, not arriving just in time for one of those conch-pink flaming sunsets for which my camera creakily consented to make an effort for about five minutes before shutting itself back down again and stubbornly refusing to be coaxed further. I walked back and forth on the wet metallic sands and collected a fragment of white-and-purple-whorled shell and watched the clouds fade to peach and charcoal. I put my hands in the water where it ran clear over the wave-rounded litter all faintly green-tinged, just to feel it on my fingers colder than before. I had all the talismans necessary to remember myself.

Some sunsets really are just point-and-click.

I love how the sea encrusts everything with itself.

All roads are tide-roads if you walk them the right way.

And I do think about it.
(Photo courtesy of obviously not me.)
It was such good sea. I had not had so much of it daily in years. And it is not that I can get none of it in the still working seaport of Boston, and Cape Cod remains sandier than the mountain-folded ledges of Cape Elizabeth or the glacier-scraped boulders of Cape Ann, but it is still Atlantic and still cold to the touch and still live. I am home now and approved by Hestia for the second time in a month, an unusual sign of travel in my life these days. Dinner was with my parents and
spatch and came from Szechuan's Dumpling, who thanks to my being literally the last customer in and out of the restaurant threw in an order from earlier in the evening that no one had ever come to collect, i.e. free crab rangoon and what it just occurred to me to recognize as suan la chow show made by a kitchen that wasn't Mary Chung's. I did not get anywhere near as much done with my brain as I had wanted, but I am working on thinking of it as recharge rather than failure. I am not acclimated to unemployment. Tomorrow I plan nonetheless not to move very much.

Some sunsets really are just point-and-click.

I love how the sea encrusts everything with itself.

All roads are tide-roads if you walk them the right way.

And I do think about it.
(Photo courtesy of obviously not me.)
It was such good sea. I had not had so much of it daily in years. And it is not that I can get none of it in the still working seaport of Boston, and Cape Cod remains sandier than the mountain-folded ledges of Cape Elizabeth or the glacier-scraped boulders of Cape Ann, but it is still Atlantic and still cold to the touch and still live. I am home now and approved by Hestia for the second time in a month, an unusual sign of travel in my life these days. Dinner was with my parents and

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Thank you so much! I slept far later than my alarm, which had better help.
*hugs*
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I hope so! *hugs*
Also, as you found a helpful online version of Engima, I can at least now in return offer you a Wigram clip if you want one - 27:30 is him walking into Tom's lodgings and our first intro proper to him. (Although, prob. best to stop after they get into Tom's room, as that has a lot of Tom's background and therefore the sort of mixed fiction/reality thing you were keen to avoid - up till that is only about a minute or two). No worries, if not of course! (Literally, no effort in this case - thanks again! <3)
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I mean, it's also no longer 2001 and I can almost certainly cope better with the inconsistent distance from history. Thank you for the pointer!