Chasing Seagulls... Ryan taught me how. We'd go to the beach and I'd watch his face suffuse with glee as his gaze found focus, and fell on the ubiquitous, white quilts billowing out over the sand; and off he'd go, lumbering towards them with his awkward gait. Then, as he sensed the moment about to happen, he would stop. Still. And gaze up in awe as the birds erupted into the sky, a frenzied flurry of feathers and ear piercing cries. He'd throw back his head and laugh with soulful delight, and then he'd be running again, chasing after them, calling out to them.
And so when I'm sad, I chase seagulls... and as I run towards them, scattering them among the clouds, shrieking and indignant, I throw back my head and laugh with soulful delight. And I feel Ryan alive inside me.
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