Just a quick oneshot.
A gentle breeze rippled the calm, clear ocean, lapping water softly over the shore. The cycle was endless, always in motion, nothing has and nothing was ever going to change that. Each wave started from another, it grew gradually, increasing and increasing until it peaked, then fell gracefully, flowing, rolling away, rolling until it reached the shore, overtaken, overlapped by the wave behind.
The sunset was beautiful that night. Rich and fluorescent, strong and bold, creating a glow around the beach as it set slowly, fading behind the rocks. It was almost as if the sun didn't want to leave. It wanted to stay there forever but knew that all good things must come to an end, to form the future in a world where nothing should outlive it's usefullness.
The abnormally quiet Malibu beach looked untouched, undisturbed as time gradually ticked by. It was around that time of evening when the barrier between the land and sky is broken as the midnight blue sky leaked into the air, lower, lower, until the sun disappeared and an almost eerie darkness crept across the picturesque seaside. It wasn't quite day, but not yet night.
The silence was momentarily disturbed by the slow strum of a single perfect chord. It rang across the beach, echoing slightly like an old forgotten bell.
The sound was played by a musician, perched comfortably on the rocks by the sea as he absorbed the natural beauty of his surroundings. He'd had a successful day, a successful year, a successful life. He came here often to escape from the shrill shrieks of screaming fans after his immensely popular Los Angeles concerts. This was his sanctuary. Far from the smoky mountains and sheltered hills of Tennessee, but it felt like home. According to the media, he was on fire. But in his heart, the flames of his success were dying out.
An old, cherished acoustic guitar lay in the lap of the young man. That guitar had been used for childhood lessons from his grandfather at their home on a country farm. It had been used for busking on the streets of Nashville when he was a determined teenager. It had been used in encores of huge soldout concert tours during the peak time of his career. But now it was being used to symbolise the end of that peak, the end of an era, but a new beginning.
There was a strange, melancholic atomsphere hanging over the beach. The ocean glistened in the darkness. Night was falling quite fast now.
The young man strummed another chord, slower this time. He planned to cut off the mullet the following morning. His infamous would be removed. He sighed, staring out at the ocean, looking back on his whirlwind career. He was in his element on stage. But the time was coming for him to move on.
The man thought of his home back in Nashville. He pictured his gorgeous wife, his young son, his newborn daughter. The family he adored. He thought of the feeling he had during concerts. The adrenaline rush. The joy at sharing his talents with the world. It was hard to think that it was time to leave that all behind, but when one door closes, another one opens. It was time to leave the fame behind. The young man was a father, that's more important than topping charts and having sellout tours.
Somewhere in the distance a bird made a soft, melodic cry, awakening the young man who was lost in thought. He closed his eyes and thought of all the memories once again. He strummed the old guitar for the final time as Robby Ray the musical phenonoma. Glancing out at the sparkling ocean, he sighed contentedly and picked up the guitar. Standing up, he walked towards his van as Robby Ray the father.
A gentle breeze rippled the calm, clear ocean, lapping water softly over the shore. The cycle was endless, always in motion, nothing has and nothing was ever going to change that. Each wave started from another, it grew gradually, increasing and increasing until it peaked, then fell gracefully, flowing, rolling away, rolling until it reached the shore, overtaken, overlapped by the wave behind.
Robby Ray shut the door of his van and turned it on. This was the moment his career ended. Pretty soon another young musician would take his place. Robby knew it was his duty to be a devoted father. He'd had his peak. As he began to drive off, he took one last look at the beach, but he knew in his heart that he'd be back there someday.
Pretty soon, it would all be someone else's dream..
Thanks for reading. Reviews or criticism would be very much appreciated.