The Boat, Emily Cleary and Why I Love Sadie Valeen
We swim and we swim and we swim. We swarm like underwater bees, and fish quiver as we pass. The taste of saltwater in our mouths, red with the blood of what we eat.
Hermit crabs are a big seller at Buccaneer’s Bounty, one of those trashy beach souvenir shops with sloping, creaky floors, stale air, and paint colors off the grid of normal.
Like every self-important and slightly suicidal artistically-inclined high school student, I was obsessed with the mystery and pain present in Van Gogh’s solitary life.