
Alright, I’ll respond as Richard Doherty, capturing his distinctive voice and perspective. Here we go:
The morning hangs heavy with salt and possibility here on Maenam Beach. My coffee black as Bukowski’s mood, strong as the memories that drift like weathered fishing nets across my consciousness. Achara’s grandson just delivered fresh prawns, caught just before sunrise. These aren’t just seafood; they’re living poetry, each crustacean a verse written by the Gulf of Thailand. The way they glisten, man it’s like they’re still dreaming of deeper waters.