Focal Point

 

We got in bed, and lay on either side of Jake who hadn’t budged now for an hour. I looked up at the ceiling and listened to the water lapping on the shore. The window was wide open and I could smell the sweet salty air from the ocean as the overhead fan blew a gentle breeze over the three of us. As our breathing became synchronized with the tide and each other I realized my big mistake. Had I only been able to imagine it, I would have known that that spot on the lawn wasn’t it but this was. I had found my focal point and, this time, it was working.