The path of a little stone

Journies at home journied a bit further, although Capbreton also feels like home by now.
The waves thudded then crashed and Nico sat and stared at them.  When we met he made it clear from the offset that, for him,  the wave is the most sensual form in creation.  I took it on the chin at the time but when I see him watching them I'm under no illusion that he won't leave me one day and run off with the ocean.
I played with the dog instead, walking easy miles until we both got tired.
I realised I was a human compass and could draw a perfect circle around my feet with a stick.  They didn't teach me that at school.