Sarah Stockley – Short Story

I stand stationary on the decrepit wooden pier where the girl with great shiny handfuls of straw hair and I used to relax and soak in the rays of the incandescent sun. I am surrounded by uncharted, still waters and squealing seagulls, looking out onto the horizon. I see a polished white yacht in the distance. I am woken from my daydream by the sound of sophisticated footsteps against the creaky wooden pier. I turn, and to my astonishment lay my eyes on a stunning girl with great shiny handfuls of straw hair standing, staring down at me. It had been so long since last summer when she left me on the pier. And here she is.

“Hi.” She says.

And we start talking.

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