Omen

I passed her smoking. I left my friends and ran back to her. But she was asleep. I should say things, stay, when I have the chance.

His hair started in the middle of his skull. It was voluminous. I could see, however, his faltering widow's peak. He was shaving it, and it was growing in.

There was a beach. I know there was a beach.

She is real. He is not. And I've never been to a beach that beautiful. I don't know what to take away and what to leave. It's foolish and it'so jumbled and it's taken from here and there. But there's something there I want. Am I allowed to take this as an omen? Will it support me when I act, when people find out, when it all goes wrong?