The day goes on with a nagging voice and imaginary finger shaking at me. "Go for a run." I hate running and there is nothing that makes me feel better afterward and changes my body faster than running.
The day continues and I get a disappointing text and the call I make to share my disappointment gives me the real upsetting information. Soon my running shoes are on and I'm driving up PCH to the spot where my friend whose young son is having radical cancer treatments, and I used to walk every morning.
I don't have a lot of time, I've put this off until the last minute and my daughter will be carpooled home soon. I run and switch to walking, my body remembering the smoke I had on Saturday. I run pass the Bentleys and the Range Rovers, down the stairs and onto the sand.
I remember the prayers my friend and I used to say on the sand those mornings. I face the ocean and remember the promises made to me after I cast every dark thought and heart pang into the waves months ago. The ocean is bigger than cancer and can easily drown a betrayal.
The sun is setting.