![]() Near dusk, before he surfed his last wave of the day, I told him I was going to tell everyone I knew about this day, and he said that everyone says that and no one ever believes them. ![]() I asked him as many questions as there were waves that day, and he answered them perfectly. He said he was serious and to ask him anything, and so I did. I asked him how he got so good at surfing, and he told me that he was God. Soon after, he paddled up next to me and flashed his perfect smile. ![]() Bottom turns, tube ride, foam climbs-it was flawless. I told him to have at it, and I watched him ride with such ease, as if he were the salt, the foam, the crash. A man-with short hair and a long beard-paddled out next to me. It was daybreak and the sky was timid with the coming dawn. Today I surfed in Manhattan Beach, just north of the pier. ![]()
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