The sky was a brillant bright blue without a fluffy white cloud to be seen. I shielded my eyes as I scanned the horizon. The ocean had not a break in the surface as it melted into the sky.
The sand under my feet grew hot as I scrunched them closer to me. The bark on the tree bit into the skin on my back as I leaned back into its shade.The sand crept into my shorts and worked into my skin.
A red crab scuttled by, nervously peering at me. A bird called to another, flitting between the three lonely trees. Off the edge of the beach, sat the wooden wreckage of what used to be my ship. The black flag held on by a corner as it waved its tattered edges in the wind. My crew perished in the churning waters a week past.
I popped the cork and nodded to the crab.
"It's a pirate's life, hey matey." I slugged from my last bottle of rum.
By Allie Bock
Picture from www.pexels.com
Great post. I love the feeling of sand on my feet.
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