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He posed this question to the class: "Where do you go for peace and quiet?" When it came my turn, my reply was: "The beach." This was my answer not because it was true, but because it was, somehow, Poetic. He was impressed by my answer, and that was my point: To Impress — because, in that particular place, and at that particular time, he was in a position of power.

And, in a way, he still is.

This adolescent memory resurfaced yesterday, whilst traversing bare-footed upon a rocky beach — my eyes fixed more on the broken beer bottles and castoff condoms strewn across the shore than on the gently lapping blue expanse beyond.

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