Buckets and spades
hang from an awning.
Titan white gulls yap overhead.
A gaggle of girls slurp ice cream from waffle cones
despite a slight drizzle.
One girl pauses
then suddenly skips after the others:
Wait up!
I lug my bag after me
down the
steps of the bus
and on the pavement,
inhale salty air.
I have an address on a scrap of paper,
a map on my phone.
It is two miles to Kelly-Anne’s place.