Love
and hate, truth and lies how can we ever know what’s real, or is nothing real
it’s all in heads. I live in Maine but really want to live somewhere warmer, I
have short hair but want long hair. I close my eyes and drift off.
I
open my eyes and I see the ocean as far as I can see, my hands and feet buried
in the warm sand. The salty air is blowing through my long curly hair and I
feel the sun kissing my skin. A feeling comes over me and I know that this is
my place; I come here to get away. I
lift up my hand and I see the sand fall through my fingers. I stand up and
shake the sand off my body, I start walking down the beach and turn to look
behind me. All my footprints have been washed away; it looks like I haven’t even
been there.
Sure, the footprints work--but take a look at the junk jewelry piece because that works too; that piece is not about missing earrings and kid-craft necklaces, and even though you hardly touch on what it's really about (love, family), your reader is in no doubt.
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