Same Time Next Summer

by Annabel Monaghan

I sip my coffee and notice it tastes different here. There’s something about the beach that changes the chemical components of everything around it. Wood feels damp, sheets right out of the dryer still smell of salt. And the coffee, it’s just better.

I’m starting to feel the pull of the ocean, and on a day like this, I can’t imagine spending ninety minutes in a basement gym confusing my muscles.

“We need to slow down,” she said by the time they were lying on the damp leaves. “Do we?” He was not slowing down. “We have all summer.” I want forever, he thought.

“If you’ve loved someone your whole life, it kind of makes sense that you’d love them forever.”