Destination unknown

We miss the bus back to the city. Instead we hitch a ride with a middle-aged couple that drives us to a sandy beach. Drink straight from the hose at the hand of a happy monk who lets water run from his temple to our thirsty mouths.

The beach is empty, strip down to skivvies and run straight into the clear, open surf. Wipe sand from feet, lick salt from lips, stare at nowhere and hope for another ride.