An orange blur obscured my vision. By morning it was even worse
It was a cool May afternoon in 2002. I was 19 and had driven to Westport beach in Washington with a few friends to enjoy a day by the ocean.
As a child, I’d been a keen gymnast, always doing backflips and energetic routines. As I got older, I still had a habit of doing cartwheels whenever I found an open space. That day on the beach, on the soft, flat sand, I couldn’t resist.
