The pendulum suck and crash of waves. Sun on my feet, face crunched into a squint. Waiting to, wanting to swim. Soporific; lullaby of sea. Horizon and sky, the perfect line between two blues; the perfect place to start a story.
On the brink, on the edge of the pool, waiting again for clouds to pass, to leap into the turquoise. Tension building. Tentative and then - the leap - and that second of knowing it's too late to back out. The cold is an agony, icy despite the sun. I pound strokes up and down, forcing warmth into my body, flying over a watery net of waves.
Wind sweeps over us. I paddle; you prefer to keep your trainers on. We walk on the dark sand, I slow step over rocks, you impatient, wait. Time slows; my life at this moment is about the sand and the sea reaching the hem of my dress, a cold slap of wet. Sparkle and shine, magical except for pointy edges and moving boulders. I snail along; you are a distant figure in blue.
The balcony is a rectangle. It frames the sea and sky. A blue grey green white palette. The waves beat out the remainder of my time here, which is shrinking to very little. I cling to moments but I'm already goodbying.