8pm. We are both starving.
With salt still in our hair after the long day at the ocean, the air is cooling down.
A slow change of pace in the concert of the cicadas dictates a break in the heat of the day. Waves colour the shoreline with their usual sound, repetitive, hypnotic and majestic.
“Should we stop here?”
“No, I don’t feel like it’s a good spot to eat,”, she says,
but I add, “we won’t have a lot more options.”
Giulia's Column 