La Mort de la Liberté
I stood on the ocean's edge: listening, smelling, watching. Waiting.Hearing the tides crash and roar as they destroyed great rocks that had been there for a thousand years and would have been there for a thousand more.Seeing the salty, stale, baron air that floated to me from across the glistening horizon.Watched the great stretches mass of ocean pull itself out and in and out and in. As it did...