What The Sea Brought.

There must be a beach-post. After a beach holiday there must be a beach post.

With so much food and rain and water and people. With shorter clothes and cooler breeze. With coconut and goan curry. With shacks and tiny colourful bottle. With beer and alcohol all over (no takers for it, sadly.) With chatter and laughter and ghost stories in the night. With sea shells and para gliding and salt water filling up right though your lungs.

The beach will always have a special place in my heart. A beach wedding would be dreamy and rather cinematic. A beach house would solve all holiday qualms. Water coming in, going out. Endlessly. White foam gathering on the sandy shores bringing tiny broken shells. Empty bottles and broken sand castles. Beach lovers. Walking hand in hand. Laughing to each other.

The sea never slept. It swayed tirelessly each night. Playing with the winds, battling with ships and cargos. It cradled little boats who thrived in to catch some fish for the night meals. It ran deep down to the core of the earth, still brimming with life.

Its fondness would never die. It would only grow deeper. For it's eternal. Its existence, ethereal.