Swish, swash, splash as my soles greeted the sidewalk. Dashing and dicing of puddles again becoming monotonous with the rattle of rain. Bullets of water aerodynamically making their way to impact. My face punched by the swift winds clean cut whisking of moisture tasting sweet as it glanced my tongue. My molten red shirt and charcoal pants, “socks to the knee”. Routine most days the sun began to grow into the navy void. I started to pass parked fresh automobiles frosty in the chill. Glistening flow of water over matt finish and covering windows with the cold. The condensation blocking view of tacky interior, rubber ferris wheels peacefully still. The morning was still young, fog still rising. I could feel each blade of grass I passed wanting to grasp me from this path with its tender green translucent leaves floating in the troposphere. The only security I felt from the borders of this ruggedly pebble paved concrete lied in the education, I could find at the end. Music in my earpieces detached me from this reality drowning my nerves in addictive enjoyment from what was around me. Just as the fog still rising intoxicated my thoughts. Glowing lights blended into the roof of the world, the sun still rising. The warmth my nerves receiving a lie, radiation burning my innocence just as the waves melted my mango passion rich in sweet sugars, rainbow chocolate, boysenberry dream, forest berry into a syrupy sea. The yellows, pinks, greens became grey, a part of what would erode more from the inexperienced. The Continuous crusade of waves weaving into the shore breaking away more of what was clear to me. The surf too unshaven for resistance with my cliff face draining, elaborate sheets of its sapphire canvassed what was left of my individualism. Rugged terrain beneath me trembled as I rumbled onward. Warm air pockets of my jacket snugly regulated my body temperature, but unable to keep the razor sharp water piercing my skin. Spear like insert