Diana I do not fight against it any more, because I love your prompts, and this is my take on your March Challenge.
pixabay image by Natan Vance
The beach stretches inside the city, snaking in through streets, and alleys, and stairs, linking the milky way to the ocean.
I run shoeless, and with every step the sand shifts. I can feel the warmth of the grains in my feet. They trapped the sunshine inside, it seems.
I stop for some seconds to recover my breath and reset my compass in the emptiness of the street, and in the presence of the magnificent blueish highness. Despite the heat I find myself frozen in place once my eyes take in the moon in contemplation and pure state of astonishment… Wow! In a simplistic attempt of explanation, I know, but I just imagine the moon collecting a pocket full of sun lights in the early hours of the dawn, and sow them in the dark sky field tonight.Through the silence I could hear the calling, the cradling of the water nearby, and I was ready to join in, splashing my joy in its shores, soothing the longing of the sand and water.
I whisper into the breeze, my eyelids fluttering closed as I breathe in the briny salty aroma. I wiggle as a shiver cascades down my spine and my eyes burst open. Sometimes I think the earth, the ocean and the moon choose to give their borrowed warmth and light until the return of the sun, the braininess forever promised at dawn. My pale lips curve upward. I will keep going between the moon and the ocean forever lulled in the tides…
And at my arrival, the water would welcome me, giving the chance for life, for the rock pools to refill, the briny waves from the tides to come as rain to a desert, a gift never repaid, as it always is with nature… the strong gift, life thrives… and so it goes on, or so I expect and desire, and I prepare myself to follow the call…
“Honey, lunch is ready, let’s eat”, I can hear my mother calling me from the living room door. My father rustling the notebook and paper, and organising the mess on the table. The familiar voices and laughter from the rest of my family flying from the kitchen, the smell of my mother’s delicious food…
I smile, look one last time inside the crystal ball painting on the shelf. There is nothing to worry me, no fears, just a peaceful, beautiful, familiar and warm magical Sunday with my love ones.
You keep asking me to explain magic. This is it!
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