Zinnia
It's a beautiful evening by the beach here in Brookside.
“Fake Love” by Tink is blasting in my ears while I dip my feet in the sand, the sea and breeze caressing the overall I have over my bathing suit while taking in the sun as it sets over the beautiful horizon.
This is the life I'd always wished to live. A small house by the beach, torn between sitting on my porch or the shore every morning and evening, watching the sun as it rose and set. Then, I have an ordinary job, making less than I ought to, but who cares? I live on the beach.
The music I was listening to came to an end. The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I come to a stop. Breathing heavily, I yank the earbuds from my ears.
“Hello?” I ask, looking around. To my left is the sea. Other than that, it’s just cocon
