I drive thru downtown. And over to the East End where I lived in a boarding house in the mid 1970s. I worked in a whse in this area too. Right behind the Maxwell House.
And then on down to Galveston island. The muse hasn't really struck me. I'm guessing too much baggage here.
I can see the blue water, dammit. Just. Cannot. Get. To. It.
Stopped here at the bottom of the seawall. There is always some fool feeding the damned gulls.
Onward. Reckon I'll head back to town. Through surfside.
Think as soon as I get metal plates for the car, I'll have to bail out of town for a while.