Beneath the Vortex

It was a clear, still night at Moonstone Beach. The tide was out, and my brother and I could hear the surf roaring in the distance. An occasional rogue wave would send a low sheet of water sliding across the sands to replenish the glossy surface and worry our toes. Overhead the stars were bright in the moonless sky, and up the coast the remnants of the season’s Milky Way stood on the horizon above the lights of Trinidad. It felt good to be on the north coast.