Lucy was watching the commercials side-on, as she was wont to do. She liked to watch them this way, usually while chopping onions or potatoes for family dinner, to see what they were really selling. Commercials, if looked at straight-on, sold things like the latest cars, phones, and colognes (usually all with an attractive and exotic model someplace rugged that those things weren’t really needed). But, if one looked at them indirectly, they revealed what they were actually selling: a dirty word that started with society and ended with values.
Sound is different on the water.
It travels, the echoing ghost of the original conversation lingering. I sit, letting each ocean wave bring me a story.
“I think she likes me,” a breathy whisper.
Louder, “... and that's when I said ‘Those aren't my footprints!’”
“I would kill for that.”