Empty Pockets Accepted

The fee is a sunburn and the wait is the relaxing drifts between sets. A spotlight shines overhead while energetic hoots play in the wind. A concession-stand becomes the local 7-11 and a glass of wine is a deceitful Big Gulp. A Vegas jackpot is a hollow wave and a debt is the momentary sting of a jellyfish. A suit and tie give way to trunks and flip flops and the scent of the affluent becomes the skin soaked stench of sunblock. Carefully powdered chins sag as salty cheeks are sun-kissed and a cool ride is a clunky beach cruiser. A beauty mark is a freckle and a dimple is a scar. The probing chatter of a therapist is muted by the repetitions of rolling waves and an enemy made is just a line drawn in the sand. A lost ticket-stub is a sandwich in the beak of a sneaky seagull and a vibrating cellphone is message in a bottle.

When your days are slow and your pockets are empty, what do you do?

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