Skip Skimmer

Skip left the house at 7:12 with half a breakfast sandwich hanging out of his beak and no clear destination. His mom said be back by dark. He said yeah. He will not be back by dark.

The park crew was already at the seawall — Marcos, Drift, Little Lou who isn't little anymore but nobody's updated the nickname. Skip hit the water at full speed before anyone even said hey, which is how Skip says hey.

He doesn't explain himself. He doesn't slow down. If you want to know where he's going you'll have to keep up, and the data suggests you cannot keep up. Skip has never actually checked the data. He doesn't need to.

By 11am he'd covered six miles of coastline, found a sick sandbar nobody was talking about yet, and was back at the seawall acting like he'd been there the whole time.

His mom called at 9:47pm. He said he was almost home. This was optimistic.