Last night I dreamt of the wave. It was a tall tombstone of dark water. It came up quickly on us at the faded beach in our red frilly bathing-suits and umbrellas. It hung over us like a skyscraper in an avalanche. I ducked my head under my little pale arms and didn't move. Everyone else was running, their towels flying behind them like colored tails. I took a deep breath and froze. The wave turned into sheets of wind and mist and blew over me like rays of gray marble light.
When the swell rose again, I ran. I didn't believe in double miracles; I knew this one would come down like cement on a tenderized body. I ran as fast as I could up the moving sandy hill. When I looked back from high ground, I knew I had made it to safety. I saw the crest of the wave curl into itself and I said a terrified prayer.
I have had this dream many times It is exactly like that.
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