Avery whispers into the breeze, her eyelids fluttering closed as she breathes in the briny aroma.
Her pale lips curve upward.
Avery bestows her gaze to the far off horizon, the flaring hues of the sun melting into the sky and ocean like a divine painting. The forever stretching sea is masked with an apricot colour, that beautiful umber flowing into turquoise. Through narrowed eyes she watches as each wave overlaps one another, sending the white bubbling crests descending, masking the shore with the transparent fading water.
If I close my eyes I can hear my mother calling me for lunch, my father rustling the newspaper as he turns a fresh leaf. In my closed hand appears a red bucket and spade, there is nothing to worry me, no fears...
, January 7, 2015.
Timid clouds are rarely exposed, leaving the sky to beam blue. Few trees give me a touch of shade to sit beneath. A white ribbon of cliffs and rocks surround me and the bay, guarding us from what lies beyond. My ears invite in the quiet whisper of waves, sharing the ocean's secrets. A graceful song, when birds calm calls break the silence in the settled scene. The fresh airs salty smell tickles my nose. Light kisses from the occasional breeze send tingling sensations through me.
Their paint lies like peeling bark off an old felled tree, curling and broken. They are pale and their padlocks are rusted over. Above the sun is bright, but as always in November it has no real heat, only the power to render the ocean a glittering green-blue like my mother's eyes. I miss those eyes.
The party of the Super stars.... HURRYYYYYYYY
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