She dragged her hair continually across her face and tucked the errant strands behind her ears as she watched for him. The salt spray was melding into her, the wind bone-aching as it whipped her coat tails.
‘You are late,’ she said.
He shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms over his heavy-duty weather-proof coat. Brows furrowed like the freshly washed sand.
‘It’s time, isn’t it?’ he said.
She sniffed, dabbing a salt wet hankie to her nose. Lips pressed together, keeping the words safe.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘When?’ he asked.
It was her turn to shrug, she faced into the wind, her hair streaming back behind her. Eyes on the horizon, searching for something she would not see.
They stood together on the edge of the sand. He reached his hand out to her, the cold wind bit at his fingers, he returned his hand to his deep pocket.
‘It’s cold out here, how about we grab a cup of tea at the café?’ he asked.
‘Too late,’ she said, ‘I need to get back, they will be missing me.’
‘We have more to discuss. When can we meet again?’ he asked.
‘I don’t think that’s wise, do you?’ she said as she turned back onto the overgrown path.
Fabulously descriptive
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