[Eric Björklund]

There was the sound of waves in the background, setting the stage for a cool February morning. Followed by the zipping of his leather jacket. Eric sat by the shore, head pressed against his arms. The wind ruffled his blond hair. No. He wasn’t pensive. Or acting out. Or acting cool. He was just really, really tired. Eric groaned, pressing his face against the cold leather of the jacket. He’d stayed up watching some...corny TV show. Simply because he’d found the beginning amusing, and then he’d become too tired and bored to change it. At least being here, he could say he’d gone out and gotten some fresh air if someone bothered him about all that healthy crap. He’d probably just go drown himself in the ocean if someone asked him about kale again. Those damn hippie school flash backs.