My dirty feet are resting on the dash, toes pressed against the windshield.
The hole in my jeans reveals that I haven't shaved very well for awhile.
The haze over the ocean feels like my it's seeping into my head.
The rock formations seem so out of place, standing in the middle of the ocean.
Yet they seem to fit so perfectly.
The waves crash against a seamless beach.
The sun seems to highlight every detail of each roaring wave.
The cool air from being tucked between the mountain and the trees feels good in my messy hair.
I see a sign that said ELK, obviously to watch for them.
Instead it makes me think of home and where I actually belong.
Maybe no where, maybe everywhere.
The beads and trinkets hanging from the rear view mirror are making shadows on my boyfriends hand as he holds the steering wheel.
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