A day in the Rockaways

The Rockaways are filled with seagulls who will steal your hot sauce, leaving a trail of red down the beach and ten tacos in need of sauce. Black-headed gulls hover overhead as you play badminton against the wind. You hit it towards the ocean so that it can boomerang with the wind toward your opponent’s racket. It’s a complicated maneuver. Park security says “You can’t go in the wat-ah,” not even to dip your toes in unless guarded by the lifeguards in their billowing red outfits. The park security ladies scold everyone they see and chase rule-breakers on slow, lumbering feet.
We decorate A with seashells and for some reason, find ourselves doing burpees on the beach after watched J9 & A comparing crossfit moves. The water is freezing this early in summer and your legs quickly go numb. Ijl dives in and eventually, A follows. They are water creatures—sea otters and porpoises.
The taco tortillas have gone stale so I eat the filling from one and tell A that the filling has somehow gone missing while he is in the convenience store. I love that he believes me but he tells me he can never trust me again. Sorry, A, I just can’t help it.P1120876

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