twenty seven

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tuesday | milan, italy



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I sat on the beach, my eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. In the gentle sunshine, I felt as if I were swimming in the briny aroma, as if the new rays of the day brought a frisson of energy to my finger tips.

It was a day for letting my eyes stay open, as if I were an old fashioned camera, remaining still while the image developed. The gulls brought their hight notes to the percussion of pebbles at the shoreline. It was a day for dreaming, for allowing time to move fast and slow.

The sand is softly golden with just the right comforting warmth. Placing my sunglasses back on, I laid out and allowed the sun to give me a tan.

I let out a soft breath, and inhaled the air. It was the first time that I could actually breathe.

The beach is my go-to place. Some folks like their fancy coffees: cream and sugar with cream and sugar on top. But give me the pebbles that move under boot with their loud crunch- louder than fall leaves and present all year.

My little sister ran through the crashing waves, mouth a grin to rival any storybook.

"Baby girl."

I looked up, noticing that Uncle Amir was standing over me. Sitting up as he took a seat next to me, I popped the gum that was in my mouth.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked, still looking ahead to watch Jamila.

"Straight. I ain't had drunk sleep in a minute." He admitted.

I nodded my head and looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"I should be askin' you that."

Clearing my throat, I sighed softly. "I'm fine, Uncle Amir."

He chuckled lowly. "Who you thinkin' you foolin' baby girl? I kno' how it looks when someone is havin' withdrawals."

Immediately, I stopped chewing my gum. Apparently he had read me well last night. I was really hoping he didn't. But like he said, who was I fooling?

"I'm not having withdrawals." I defended.

He reached up to remove my sunglasses so he could get a better look at me. I looked away here and there because I didn't have the courage to keep eye contact.

"Is it alcohol?"

"Can we not?" I sighed. "Not right now."

"There ain't ever a good time, Nia. At least talk to me. I kno' better than anyone. And you kno' I won't tell nobody. I just don't want you to be like me."

"No."

Uncle Amir sighed. "I'll tell you what triggered me." He suggested causing me to look at him. "Is that a fair trade?"

I glanced back at Jamila who was getting ice cream from a server's tray. I looked back at Uncle Amir, contemplating whether I wanted to leave my soul to bare with another recovering addict.

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