Bovaldstrand

A small island on the west coast of Sweden. Crabs, mussels and seaweed covered the flat stones beneath the water line. There was a salty scent in the air and the noise from seagulls screaming in the far distance gave a dreamlike impression. The sun penetrated through my skin and I felt how the blood in my veins caught fire and rushed through my body like hot magma. The stones were warm and soft, shaped by water and wind. I was here and now and nothing else existed.