There was a day the whole world went away..

... and the sky was still blue, but a painted blue, like a Picasso Blue, and there was the Old Man with the guitar.
The sun was warm, and frozen in the same place everyday, everyday nearly sinking into the ocean, but not quite enough

And there was sand. Clear, still, plain sand, bathed by that ocean that had ghosts and apples in it.
And indeed, the ocean had apples, instead of coral reefs, and an orange fish swam by, right in front of my eyes

If I had reached out my hand, I would have, I would have touched it.

But I let it go, and breathed. The air had the perfect temperature, you know, not to cold, not abrasively hot.
Perfect.
And so I sat in the sand, and the sand was hot, and I buried my hands and my feet in the sand.