Little House

There once was a small house. Surrounded by long-limbed cypresses, the house stood in idyllic seclusion. It was a little house, in soft pastel and delicately painted colors.

That house is empty now. But once, long ago, there were people. People who laughed and lived and loved. They are all gone now. But sometimes, you can still hear them.

Beach-from my memories of Laguna Beach(show and place)

He stared at the beach. The sun was up, had been up already for hours. There was nothing he could see but stretches of tan sand, bare as naked skin, and the sparkling sea, with waves almost beckoning him forward. There was no one here; the beach was deserted except for the seagulls and their cry. That was strange-but then he supposed everyone went home to sleep off the hangovers from last night’s party. Trash, flotsam of last night’s party- beer bottles and plastic knickknacks-were embedded in the sand, like last night’s memories were embedded in his.

random scene- inspired by a prompt on boredom

 Just something fun I wrote : )