Red Fish, Bad Fish, Good Fish

It’s Sunday morning in Hilton Head and I am a bit hungover. A crisp and bright morning with an ocean breeze flowing through a regal and well-aged cypress that provides some shelter of shade from the eastern sun. She allows just enough light through to splash and speckle my balcony and shadows of leaves dance on occasion with the breeze. Oddly, there is fragrant sassafras in the air. The sheets are crisp and cool on my unclad body. I stretch. I am finally enticed, over and over again, to breathe deep and clear my lungs of the harsh summer air brought from home.

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About ghost3112

Family first. Enjoy laughing with friends as much as somber quiet moments with Clair de lune and red wine. Love the arts and humor of all sorts but will beat you up if I have to. Eating is a favorite hobby but cooking is the art that holds my passion. Photographer, semi-activist, love-machine, and advisor. I sell jets for a living.

5 thoughts on “Red Fish, Bad Fish, Good Fish

  1. Well done, Mike. You have both caught the reader’s attention, making us want to read on, and include some great sensory details in there. I wonder: why is it odd that you can smell sassafras?

    • Because it was palms and cypress in Carolina. I don’t recall seeing any sassafras trees and the scent reminded me of my time in Orange and San Diego Counties in California.

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