Walk On The Beach
On an autumn day, late afternoon, the beaches typically busy sands are mostly empty, the usual tourists have dwindled, off to get ready to explore the LA night life. In the distance there is a long pier, the lights twinkling in the slowly darkening sky. Occasional shrieks of people on the rides fill the air, the light breeze carrying the sound down the lengthy beach. The sun is setting gradually on the horizon and the waves are settling. The sea is a deep cerulean blue and it stretches on seemingly forever, a few lone surfers are still out on the waves catching the last small breaks.
Miles upon miles of golden sand greet her.
A young brunette woman walks on the beach, hitching her long dress up. She is barefoot and the warm, soft sand oozes between her toes, the grains trickling over her feet. The warm sun rays beat down on her skin, the late sun still quite warm. There is a light breeze that sends her curled hair dancing into her carefully made up face.
Her dark eyes flick up to glance down the long beach to where a small group of people are gathered in the distance. Her perfectly painted red lips lift up at the edges as she spots the gathering further up the emptying beach. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and she tastes the sea salt in the air.
Tall palm trees were dotted around, swaying in the gentle wind, their thin trunks curving over. She sees the white foam building up on the shoreline. She hears faint giggles of children and the laughter of happy people on the amusements merging with the sound of the waves.
The smell of sea salt tinges the air, filling her nostrils.
She is nearing the people, the small cluster of her friends and family. They are dressed in their finest, outfits preened and perfect. They form an orderly formation around the centre piece, a tall white arch, with red roses interlaced in its woven wood.
The woman lets her dress fall and it trails along the sandy floor beneath her. The tight V-neck bodice hugs her curves impeccably, dotted with sequins that continue up around the halter neck, which is tied in a neat bow. The dress clings to her all the way down to her mid-thigh before it flows out, swishing as she moves down the short aisle.
The crowd turns to face her and she blushes, the natural colouring emphasising her already rouged cheeks and averts her eyes, looking down at the bouquet of roses, identical to the ones on the arch. At the end of the aisle, a priest waits with her future husband.
She smirks upon realising he's finally tidied his appearance, especially for the big day. His shaggy, blonde, 'styled by pillow' hair had been combed back. His azure blue eyes glimmered as he grinned at her, his smile wide and his white teeth on show. His black suit was tight on the sleeves, accentuating his strong biceps.
She smiles back as she takes his hand and he sneaks a quick kiss on her cheek, whispering "you look beautiful" in her ear.
