Along the path through the dunes to the beach the leaves overhead seemed to stretch out to hold the moon like a glowing orb.
You’re moving your toes through the cold sand. It’s late and the night is on your tongue. The dream author pulls a cigarette and lights up. What happens next? [from a 14 July 2013 Facebook post by the Byron Bay Writers Festival https://www.facebook.com/bbwritersfestival?hc_location=timeline%5D She sauntered across the chopped-up beach to where I’d laid down to […]