sandwrrm
The loft in my grandma's attic always makes me remember being young. I wish I could go back to the days when life was a simple as a sleepover.
The sand under my feet is bleak and grey and saturated with salty water. Sandcastles are reduced to piles of mush all around. The wind is heavy and humid.
The word was mist yesterday. I wonder if it's ever going to change. There's only so many times I can be inspired by a single prompt. I need a new word really bad.
The mist cleared over the early morning skies of Caladan. It was perfect weather for enjoying a cup of coffee and watching the tides come in.