Where I'm staying now is about 400 metres from Tiffany's, a quiet beach known only to locals.
I woke straight from my dreams - tendrils and wisps of them still haunt in-and-around-and-through-me - pulled on clothes, avoided a mirror, and walked against the early morning chill, down the wooded and aromatic path, to the ocean edge.
Morning pages: My creator has met me at the pages and now we're to walk together through our secret garden.
How blessed am I!
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