Troubled by dreams. One, a last meeting with Christine. Awoke regretting that I missed the Last Voyage of Columbus. Missed seeing those friends one last time. All to save $100—and see my son and his friend enjoy Rye Playland.

Another dream. Dad and Mom, stranger. An intervention in a parlor. White pastel, wicker furniture, floral upholstery. I’m shouting, “You think I’ll become a dark faerie?”

blue hour
dreading and desiring
the darkness

A gentle breeze out of the south. Water’s a dull gray and brown, a reflection of partial cloud-cover above and who-knows-what below. Frankie’s castle—courtesy of a new sand toys—is half-complete, with three towers and two walls, five three-part ramparts each.

breaching sunlight
companions join our son
building his city

A return “home” for lunch. I eat their leftover Shrimp and Broccoli. Mira has a homemade salad topped with roasted chicken. Frank eats his 7-11 pizza. After our siesta, we drive down Coastal Highway to Jolly Rogers on the Pier.

parking adventures
gulls and turns float above
Assateague Island

The coaster races down the first hill, rips around a turn and through a loop. Two more wrap-arounds, and then it’s over. That coaster being the only ride at Jolly Rogers that Frankie wants to experience, he renames the amusement Pier rip-off park. Nearby Timler’s isn’t any better. It’s another collection of old carnival rides and amusements, overpriced and under stimulating. We have no difficulty leaving them both behind.

bayside
he reads every sign
walking toward sunset

In need of a boardwalk escape, we stroll down Baltimore Avenue. Higher-quality boutiques and trendy-looking shops line each side. We stop to eat at the Ocean City Kebob House. Taking a break from seafood, we eat Turkish gyros and wash them down with Pino Noir and coke.

Turkish music
the succulent juicy taste
of roasted meat

Back on the boardwalk. The sand sculpture adjusts the crucified Christ. A spray-paint artist creates two wonders with breathtaking speed and skill, as hip-hop rhythms play. We stride past stores sublime and ridiculous on our way back to the car.

“Nice sunglasses.
Where did you get them?”
heard by the Cat’s Meow

Photo by Kevin Delvecchio