It’s the middle of the night. You pull your beaten-up sedan over to the side of the road and open the door. Accosted with ocean air, you run your hand up through your hair and begin running. And running. And running. Running until you’re torso deep in water, feeling the smoothed pate of ocean rocks beneath your feet. You begin your dolphin calls. Whether or not they’ll come tonight is not up to you. The only thing that is is that you’re trying. And trying is like riding a dolphin. Difficult. Ephemeral. Powerful. One day, they will come.
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