Monika snuggled up to me lovingly in the middle of the night. She had to kind of slide over in her sleeping bag from her therma-rest to mine to do so.

"Chris..." I should have known she wanted something. "I need to pee." Monika has this rule: when we're camping and she needs to pee, I get to walk with her. I started rummaging through my clothes. "You putting on your pants?"

"Yeah I'm putting on my pants. It sounds like the end of world is going on out there. I'm not facing that in my tightie whities."

Waves were crashing. Wind was whipping. Water was lashing. As we stepped out into the night a light drizzle was coming down. The wind was pretty much just minding its own business. The ocean was safely breaking on the beach 30 feet away; right where we had left it before going to bed. But in the echo chamber that is our tent, the three had collaborated to engender thoughts that the sea could truly swallow one whole.