Santa Cruz (James Rustic)

I walked along the boardwalk, but did not enjoy the scenery of these bleak winter months.

I sat on the beach to watch the surf roll in, but was nearly driven to insanity by the endless bellow of the breaking waves.

I strolled through the downtown shops, but the smell of vagrants and peasants caused my pitiless stomach to churn.

I dined at a fine Italian restaurant in Capitola, but was too numb to appreciate any sort of exquisite tastes.

I wandered around the avenues and boulevards, overly engrossed by my own thoughts to appreciate the friendliness of the locals.

I traveled great distances in hopes of relieving my excessive mental baggage, but left with more souvenirs then I would possibly have room to carry.

I went to Santa Cruz to experience the warmth and tenderness of love, only to receive the cold reception accustomed to these bleak winter months.