It was a blue, cloudless day.
She sat on a wooden bench, facing the sea. Ocean breeze bowed wisps of hair into her face, cooling her bare shoulders that were burning from the sun.
She heard children playing and laughing on the sand in the distance behind her.
The wind rustled tree leaves, and with the rising tide, water rushes over her toes.
All the noise faded away, the sound of waves breaking and leaves became the only thing she heard. And with the falling of the afternoon sun, she felt utterly at peace.
YOU ARE READING
on a cold morning | b.h
Poetrybrief poems and mega short stories - what I come up with on a morning. Some will be poetry. Short stories relating to people I know. People I wish I knew. Race, gender and sexuality equal everything. I won't tag anything. It's fluffy
