There was something definitively depressing about the beach.
A combination of nostalgiac regret and reminders of one’s mortality and insignificance. Every sound and smell was a reminder of the unrelenting passage of time. These were thoughts she didn’t voice aloud.
The day had started out auspiciously enough, with a cloudless sky and a trip to the beach. She stretched her legs out, drinking in sun and burrowing in sand. The not too distant lap of waves provided a nice background to her light reading- a YA fantasy she had been gifted by her sister who warned her not to take herself too seriously. She didn’t think she was guilty of that, but decided to err on the side of caution and embrace her fleeting youth.
She dug in her tote for her Ziploc bag enclosed cell–one can never be too careful with sand and electronics–to check the time. He should arrive shortly. At the thought of him, her entire body flushed with warmth.
bookworm_shawn 