January 31: Cubing the Moment

This little rectangular photo, of paper and ink and a moment in time when my father was a grown-up boy, playing on the beach with the other boys, turning handstands and backflips: I can smell the fresh and sweaty salt in his hair, hear the shouts and laughter and gulls through the wind gushing in my ears and the surf shushing everyone: I feel grit in my teeth and the nearly-overwhelming urge to be at the sea.