The Roast 



A Writer's 

 Yearly Sojourn 

 Hydrates His Soul 



Story and photos by Eddie Nickens 



It harbors an awesome emptiness, this island. 

 From dune-fringed beach to marsh-edged 



sound, the hand of man is invisible. 

 There are no beach houses crowded against 

 the primary duneline, no fishing piers or roads 

 or neon, no things to do. At night the lights 

 of nearby towns twinkle across the sound, 

 and boats drone constantly in the distance. 

 But turn to the open sea, and all but the island 

 disappears, that and whatever baggage 

 you couldn't leave behind. 



Continued on page 16 



14 



NO V EMBER/DECEMBER 1 995 



