“When will the tides come again?” she mourned. Big sunglasses covered her face, as she gazed plainly at the still horizon. It was summer, after all. She was stuck intentionally in an island which filled her soul like a six-star hotel suite.
For a moment she thought about her husband, who was still misplaced in the vast, blue ocean. He promised her he would bring her favorite fashion and gossip magazines. She really wanted his presence around him, as they planned what name they would give to their island.
Many friends often told her how her husband was mysterious and deep, like the ocean. Sometimes she felt as though it was true, when she felt her soul drowning into his eyes. His skin was also salty, when she tasted it.
She tasted her skin, stared at the horizon for a while, and started to cry. This went on for days, until she acknowledged that her husband would never enjoy her sun, sands, and palm tree shades.
For a moment she thought about her husband, who was still misplaced in the vast, blue ocean. He promised her he would bring her favorite fashion and gossip magazines. She really wanted his presence around him, as they planned what name they would give to their island.
Many friends often told her how her husband was mysterious and deep, like the ocean. Sometimes she felt as though it was true, when she felt her soul drowning into his eyes. His skin was also salty, when she tasted it.
She tasted her skin, stared at the horizon for a while, and started to cry. This went on for days, until she acknowledged that her husband would never enjoy her sun, sands, and palm tree shades.
