The strong breeze interwove with my hair and started to dance, lifting my black curls to the sky. My face fell warm when the morning suns rays hugged it tight. The sky, a soft pink and royal blue, with a hint of lemon yellow and fire orange. Small clouds overhead cast down a shadow onto the lonely sand. The small grains of the beach crunched under my footsteps. Each time I move, the grains cramming to refill the space my footstep left open. The waves, a deep blue more royal than the brightest sky, washed up onto the shore in a rhythmic melody. Each giant wave, covered with a layer of white foam, sent bright white spray into the sky. Then, gravity goes to work and the small droplets of ocean water fall back to the sea.
I stood silently, swaying with the music of the beach. And yet, as I stood here I thought. Why, if I get to enjoy this beautiful, wonderful place, can I not forget about what I have done? I thought this is the kind of place you go for refuge, for peace, for tranquility? Or is it not? Because as long as I stand here, the worse the feeling inside of me gets until soon, I will just want to be free of it. Along with everything else.
