theatergirl92
the complexity of the emotions on her face were difficult to trace. Maybe it was their lack of conversation at dinner, or possibly something deeper. Regardless, he didn't know whether to laugh or hug her as their date concluded after dinner, where they would go their separate ways and sleep in separate beds. his dates always ended this way. he'd stopped trying to pretend otherwise.
she plays in the sand, her fingers making trenches and her toes making moats. The birds float above her on waves of wind, and sam sees his old life in her, sees what he wants her to be. not him. not like him at all. but she is his daughter, happy, uncaring, not knowing that they may never see each other again. She just wants to build sandcastles and laugh at crabs and scream as the water hits her.