Short Stories

Beach

Spherical topaz burned bright in the infinite sky, casting golden light onto everything it touched. Burning sand created the delicate slope of the beach that lead down towards Neptune's oceans. Erratic waves lapped at the beach and was aesthetically pleasing to watch. From this sanctuary, shrouded in shade, the burning sun could not harm me. From time to time the glittering sunlight danced though the palms above me and traced golden patterns on my skin.

High above me, towering palm trees held bountiful coconuts that could provide an exotic drink. The lofty palm leaves cast dim shadows across the burning sand, allowing it relief from the heat. Blooming, transitory flowers exuded aromatic scents that enticed insects. A chorus of tropical birds sang in a rhythmic melody. Only a glimpse into bushes and trees allowed the sight of feathers, the colour of an oil spill in the light. After only a few seconds, they were gone.

Apart from the melodic chorus of the birds and the waves lapping at the beach, the island was quiet.

Tied to a post on the shore, a dilapidated rafted rocked gently with the waves. Plants had taken over and vines wrapped itself around it in a tight hug. Flowers bloomed in the winter, from the vines. A sign of life in the season of mourning. A sign of respect towards fallen leaves and crushed petals.

As the sun kissed the ocean goodnight. The fireflies took their cue to re-light the Nirvana. Their twinkling light creating a gentle glow.

As its long-gone friend descended, the pale moon rose into the darkening sky and hung loftily. A scattering of stars painted the sky and built to the screscendo of light. Smears of purple and pink were added to the picture in the sun's last attempt to make itself known before vanishing until morning. Twilight became the conductor that started the chorus of crickets that plagued the island.

The island became alive at night.