Crossed Wires

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Why she had picked this place was beyond me. Where were the cocktails and sun-loungers?  Why did it have to be a million miles away?  There were dumps much closer! I slung my bags from my shoulders in protest; making her carry her own off the boat just wasn’t going to cut it.


I felt light as air, stepping onto the dock.  It was so much to take in: the simple beauty of everything.  This was life and it was all mine for two weeks – ours, hopefully.  No cocktails of BS or fighting the tides; the sea gushed, gently here.


This piece was created using the prompt (photo contributed by Rochelle) hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields – Addicted to Purple. 












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