Drowning Hummingbird | Short Story

The sand dipped beneath her bare feet caressing her ankles. The wind was darting past her face and entwined her stands in a fiery dance, but he was cold. Absent was the warm gentle breeze her thin dress anticipated. Instead of giving tenderness he blew the flimsy fabric against her legs and whipped at her pale skin until it tinged with pink. He made her tremble. He compelled her to go back, to shelter herself from him, to be safe. She had no desire to be safe — that was the reason she had gone to the coast.

Before her, the ocean was raging. The waves slammed like suicides against the pier, crashed, and sprinkled back into the waters. A never-ending cycle they could not escape from. The deafening roar of the tempest ascended into the clear sky, vanishing in its freedom. The ocean foamed and foamed, stretching fruitlessly towards the coast for the motionless figure that wanted to be reached. Her soul burnt for the coolness of the waves, she longed for it to seep inside her lungs; her heart raced towards the waters. It pounded against her ribcage as if trying to push her forward, that little heart, so maybe then the ocean would be able to wrap her in his molten embrace at last. And she always followed her heart’s will — that was the reason why she had gone to the coast.

Read More: https://medium.com/soul-deep/drowning-hummingbird-56b5e76c5556?sk=98b7621272e8f6b7997703996c758507