Beach Love
We would wake up at 5 a.m. and run along the lake. Not on the running/bike path, mind you, but actually along the lake, in the sand. I was not the best running partner; I am slow as hell and I hate sand. After a few weeks, he asked me to stay at home, which I understood. I wasn’t helping him advance his training. It was annoying him. Annoying like having, oh, I don’t know, sand in your shoe.
Empires collapse, fortunes evaporate, and stocks nosedive into hell—but a deep sleep, a clean shit, and a laugh that shakes your skeleton remain the closest thing humanity has to real wealth.