Colloquialism

#249

A gentle breeze sifts through the sand

Rough granules of polished rock rub my feet

Cool, seaweed tinted water laps at the shore's edge

The ebb and flow of the temperamental tide caresses my feet as I venture out into the sapphire blue

I stop, toes crunching into the shells decorating the wet floor

I extend my arms wide, like a bird, shirt flapping around my body like anxious wings

And then, I fly