We built our fires on the beach, and every night we sat by them and talked and ate our food, and we made love and slept.
As fall came we moved back into the dunes.
Later, we went further. To the woods; but walked or fished or searched for clams or driftwood in the mornings and the afternoons. And as we walked we saw the charred-out fires we had built, each in a different place and said, "do you remember that night?"
From “All Men Are Whores” by David Mamet
© John Jansson