What we should do is quick rise up early in the morning before the birds, before the sun and while the dew's still settling, while there's still a dark early dusky haze over the field behind your house, and we should drive to the beach. We should drive to the beach and say our waking morning prayers together and lay out a blanket on the sand while the world's still dark and blue and full of that calm coolness, we should sit on the blanket and lean against each other and wait for the sun to rise over the atlantic. When it's just barely completely over the horizon you should kiss my forehead and we should quick gather up the blanket and whatever books we may have brought with us, quick take a picture of ourselves and the sunrise, the beach and the seagulls we have befriended, run back to the white car, drive to the airport and board a plane for the opposite coast. We should be ridiculous for the full trip across the country, speaking only in foreign accents and tickling each other but pretending we didn’t, asking strange questions to our fellow passengers and hopefully befriending the stewardesses. When we arrive we should ask everyone for directions to the nearest beach and get a taxi and go there, we should bring with us leftover airplane snacks and perhaps stop at a supermarket for cheese and crackers so that we do not go hungry. Oh you like peanut waffles. We should get to the beach and over-tip the taxi driver and run footraces up and down the sand, run into the ocean with our arms above our heads because we are free, fall into each others arms, into the sand, sit on our same blanket and eat and lean against each other and watch the sunset over the pacific. We should watch the sunset and fall asleep on the beach tangled in a mess of arms and legs and blanket and sand. We should, Royboy.