I was in love with God for one afternoon. Twenty, alone on a beach, I dropped rocks by the edge and watched the ocean wash gray into blue, brown into red. An hour of my crunching steps, the clack of pebbles, the water’s rippling response. Never mind invisibility. We were the only ones, and I so intoxicating—sand-blown hair, denim cut-offs, no reason to believe anyone’s faith could dissolve. My prayers were as certain as the stones I threw, the answers as sure as the cove’s blue floor.