Sea Lion Shores Sister’s in the drive in movies, brother’s at the old high school.

His heartbeat slows back to resting pace. He looks up to her then down to the kelp strewn about his feet like old clothing, then reaches down to nose through it so that the strands drape over his neck. Grains of wet sand streak his chin and he rubs it off futilely with one hand. And whose fault is that? 

The noise of rain, shhshhshh, was moving away from them and before long the clouds had thinned out just enough so that he could see the sun shining, muted through a layer of quivering white vapor. He shivers in the damp chill, thankful for the thick winter coat, sniffs once or twice. 

Must be a reason, right? For you all to be living on the edge of the world.

Distant howling. Wind or wolf, it did not matter.