Spin
Mal.
Morn’s waves brushed past her spring curls, the lustre of their sombre shades prancing between ripples of effulgent froth. Droplets of translucent squirts littered her eyelashes with limp dew, as the constant pressure of the waves pushed her 50’s model figure further into the company of oxygen. Sunlight’s prosperous view mounted her submerged body, caressing a rosy cheek with affectionate heat. Stirring through violent splashes, bare murmurs whispered through gritted teeth proved her consciousness. Her lashes fluttered with anticipation, daring to part them for a revelation. However strange, lone, unkempt, or dissimilar, she longed to discover what shall become of her. For the woman was only human, human with a thirst for fictional ventures inside one’s mind. Within the minds of others. A woman who adored to defy advice, and safety. As vulgar and destructive as dreams may be, she had always found fascination in the danger without cause nor consequence.
The little frame of her flesh hesitantly rose from the shoreline, testing her own stability by propping herself upon slimy knee tops. Dainty fingers raced the outline of where her face lay, with wondering eyes examining her surroundings. The sky she had gazed upon during winter nights and Summer evenings, the shades of day and dusk that illuminated the golden hair of her children as they waddled around a grassy garden, now simply an easel and canvas, lacking paint. Beyond the shore lay an array of nothingness. Potential lurked between particles of grey abyss.
Blue eyes quivered with both the known and unknown. The serenity of a beach infused with slight panic of the whereabouts of her husband. She had adapted to the dream world, the possibility of venturing into the obscurity of the subconscious. The problem that trembled between her lips lay with Dom. Through every level, her hand barely escaped his touch. Every sniper attack, or disgusted glare, would be laughable if Dom’s fingers curled around her waist. Her ears craved his voice, her pupils desperate for his face, her skin needed his gentle graze.
The dark haired beauty climbed to a standing position, staggering her ankles around the sand, tossing grains with every flicker of her foot. Pleading for her husband, ignoring the salt water burning her throat, she resisted to weep. The rustle of Ocean’s spray enchanted her ears. The patter of footsteps massaged her ear lobe.
“Dom!” Screamed Mal, hysterically. She felt his presence, but not his embrace. She longed for him, within a world of bleak imagination.
The little frame of her flesh hesitantly rose from the shoreline, testing her own stability by propping herself upon slimy knee tops. Dainty fingers raced the outline of where her face lay, with wondering eyes examining her surroundings. The sky she had gazed upon during winter nights and Summer evenings, the shades of day and dusk that illuminated the golden hair of her children as they waddled around a grassy garden, now simply an easel and canvas, lacking paint. Beyond the shore lay an array of nothingness. Potential lurked between particles of grey abyss.
Blue eyes quivered with both the known and unknown. The serenity of a beach infused with slight panic of the whereabouts of her husband. She had adapted to the dream world, the possibility of venturing into the obscurity of the subconscious. The problem that trembled between her lips lay with Dom. Through every level, her hand barely escaped his touch. Every sniper attack, or disgusted glare, would be laughable if Dom’s fingers curled around her waist. Her ears craved his voice, her pupils desperate for his face, her skin needed his gentle graze.
The dark haired beauty climbed to a standing position, staggering her ankles around the sand, tossing grains with every flicker of her foot. Pleading for her husband, ignoring the salt water burning her throat, she resisted to weep. The rustle of Ocean’s spray enchanted her ears. The patter of footsteps massaged her ear lobe.
“Dom!” Screamed Mal, hysterically. She felt his presence, but not his embrace. She longed for him, within a world of bleak imagination.
♠ ♠ ♠
Eck.