The sea took back with it the vagaried footprints of a thousand people.
He thanked her for gently erasing the joblist from his mind.
The twenty something group chose an expensive Canon, the thirty something couple, the angry surf, and the forty something club, small talk.
Twenty hungry fishing rods dived into the sea, waiting for lady luck to kiss their baits.
The rain washed away his sobriety with unmatched ease.
Years of sloth and excuses filled her stomach.
He littered the world with his nicotine habit.
The rum slowly wiped away his regrets and his bank balance.
The beach resort smelled of fresh botox and old cellulite.
The gin made her shyness disappear faster than a plate of pakoras.
The woman returned from her holiday with a thousand photographs and no memories.
1 comment:
Very nice. The last one, is especially good.
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