The sun rises from the ocean in the place where I was raised. Here it is swallowed by the sea. At times I will stand in the sand, watching threads of light fall under the waves, and think about consumption. I’m terrified of evenings. It isn’t the darkness, I know that nothing lurks there and it’s the absences that truly worry me. I imagine the opportunities of each day being chewed up and replaced with a void like Langolier excrement. I feel left behind every time night falls, knowing one day I’ll run out of chances for another tomorrow.