Pebble Town
After seeing the destruction somebody did to the structures kids and their parents and I built, and left there intact, on the west beach, someone who obviously loved the little stone village, we had built, who came across the ruins, wrote an angry letter to the perp, scratched on to the back of a cigaret package. He left it, I think, in hope that the perp would return to see the wreckage, and reading it feel a metaphysical dagger of guilt.
