Find a photograph. Write the story of what’s happening outside the frame.


Outside the frame, it’s 7 in the morning.

Outside the frame, it’s cloudy, late August.

Outside the frame and two hours prior,

Em drove us to the beach and

It was decided later on,

Recalling our lack of shoes in the bagel shop,

That we might’ve still been drunk.


Outside the frame, the beach is empty.

I’m cozy in a sweatshirt

And the sand is my pillow.

Outside the frame, the salty air

Evokes a powerful nostalgia,

But we manage to shake off

The drama from our shoulders.


Outside the frame, it had been

One hell of a summer.

Our skin is now a golden color,

And we sigh in sorrow

For the coming September,

But when we leave, we’ll always remember –


Outside the frame, the beaches stretch for miles

And coming home is the same as

See you tomorrow.

Outside the frame, two years have passed.

A hurricane took us to hell and back,

But we got through that and we’re here today.

There’s a comfort in knowing that

Home doesn’t change,

And for me, it looks like the sand and the waves,

A few good friends

Smiling back inside the frame.


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