We were running late to Wildwood, and the motel where we planned to stay kept calling us, making sure we’d get there before 10 pm so that they could close the office for the night. We drove around searching for a place to eat dinner, me hanging halfway out of the car window with my camera because I fell in love with every single sign on Ocean Avenue and a photo was the only way I could take them home with me. The streets were empty except for us. I jumped out of the car and stood in the Waikiki parking lot, listening to the sounds around me – so quiet you could hear the faint crash of ocean waves, a chorus of crickets, the click of a traffic light, the hum of a neon sign floating above me.
4 Comments so far
Leave a comment