This idea has been slowly developing in mind for a while.
Without further ado, I give you:
New Beginning
It was a quiet autumn afternoon in Surrey Borough. The last rays of sun basked the golden sand in a soft yellow glow. Slowly, slowly, it dipped into the sea, leaving a trail of dusty white specks in its trail. A soft wind was blowing, calm and untroubled. Foamy waves lapped against the shore, begging to be held and embraced by a pair of open arms.
Two figures sat together.
She hugged her knees against her chest, hands occupied with the course sand underfoot.
He watched her wordlessly, intently, as the wind teased his carefully combed hair.
Her eyes darted towards the darkening sea. Sifting the sand between her fingers, she muttered, "That's stupid and you know it."
He shrugged as he leaned back and propped himself against his elbows. "It was just a thought," he said, digging a hole into the sand with his shoed toe.
"Not the best idea you've had, Ace." The owner of the alto voice kept her umber gaze on the horizon.
He chuckled, "Binge-watching Gilmore Girls, are we."
She glanced at him sideways. Without any warning, she tossed a handful of sand onto his sweatshirt. "Says whom?"
As their conversation veered away from the former topic, they settled into a comfortable banter.
The quarter moon shone brilliantly from the heavens as it tossed a milky white glow upon the violet waves and cast shadows around the duo. A few stars peeked out from the indigo sky.
As the tide began creeping in, the proprietor of dark windswept hair stood up. Straightening his back, he shook his body in the manner of a befuddled timber wolf, running a hand through his hair. With a faint tremor, he turned his face towards moon and inhaled silently.
The girl was still seated on the sand, chewing her bottom lip, brow furrowed and tangled auburn hair astray. The woolen gray sweater that had been given to her by her father on her thirteenth birthday remained oversized; to this day, the warm fabric still hung loosely from her frame.
He looked down at her. Holding out an outstretched palm, he said quietly, "It's getting late. Walk you home?"
She looked up. Swallowing the thin lip skin she was chewing on, she nodded slightly and reached up, clasping his warm hand in her cold ones, and pushed off the ground. Dusting the sand off the seat of her patterned leggings, she glanced at him gratefully and yawned.
The two ventured down the leaf-strewn stone path. From both sides of the street stood bright, warm houses. Far in the distance, the dark silhouette of the Empire State Building could be seen. The rest of the city lay in a faraway outline of neon lights and tall skyscrapers. Tugging at the neck of her sweater, she stood in the lamplight. "It was just a thought though, right?"
He paused mid step, standing several paces away from her. He sighed, "Of course, you idiot. Of course."
She fell in step beside him. "Promise?"
"I promise."
The calm serenity present in his voice was emphasized by the inaudible echoes the fresh autumn wind left behind in the crisp leaves that danced excitedly from their spots from the branches overhead.
Halfheartedly convinced, she nodded and fell into step behind him. Lifting her head to gaze at him, her pink nose and rosy cheeks flushed another shade warmer. "Now that that's somehow out of the way, may we get ice cream?"
"It's dark," came the voice beside her.
"It isn't even eight yet," she argued.
"We haven't had dinner."
"Who cares about dinner? Ice cream can be eaten for dinner."
"No it can't."
"Says the person who indulges himself with chocolate strawberries on a weekly basis."
Defeated, the figure beside her rolled his eyes. "Fine."
Speeding up her pace, she said solemnly, "Your treat though, of course."
"Only if you let me spend the night."
She grinned. "Deal, you fraidy cat."
He protested, "I'm not–"
"Free ice cream, here I come."
Snarky Holophrasis
November 10th, 2015