Sunset

Hours in silence marred by staccato bursts of cracked-glass arguments as Wilson Koewing raged about the impossible beauty of rabid-violet sunsets in Playa Hermosa, Costa Rica while Dutch Simmons begged for the soothing amethyst of Nokomis, Florida. Cracked lips whined and doused by sour warm lagers that sat in the sand too long as fire ants besieged ankles and shins which should have bothered Wilson Koewing and Dutch Simmons but the edibles kicked in and attention was turned to their dog’s lack of testicles and the concept of being neutered males constrained from aspiring to true potential due to one shameless self-indulgence or another was embraced and lamented. The tacit acknowledgement solemnly rendered before dissolving into piles of giggles mistaken as sand castles by pasty passers-by in jean shorts and crocs when Wilson Koewing points out dogs are superiors because they have no recollection of shame and all Dutch Simmons is concerned with is wondering if the dogs have any memory of the phantom sac still pulsing in a biohazard bag like an amputee mourning a lost limb.