Waves crashed around my feet as I crouched on the rocks. I smiled slowly as I watched the sea plants retreat into themselves as the water left them. Hiding from the unknown. Mother said I did that a lot. Backed into my shell untill the danger had passed. A sea of light filled the sky for an instant before blacking out, and a crack of thunder sounded out almost immediatly afterwards. Whilst my ears still rang from the noise, the sky split open and rain stormed out. I was drenched in an instant, my black fringe was plastered to my forehead and my long hair begain to soak up water. I tied it up in a high ponytail to stop it acting like a sponge on my back. Still I looked out over the sea, trying to judge whether I had pulled my boat far enough up the beach. It looked like I had. The waves were rough, and lept high up to where I was sitting, but they would not come far up the steep bay.
A fork of lightning darted out and stuck a rock nearby unexpectedly. It was becoming very rough. I picked up my bundle of fish and slung my rod over my back and started back up the path through the stone. Reaching the top I pelted through the village as people ran to their already blacken out houses trying to escape the rain. I chuckled and continued on my way, slowing at the hill untill I reached our cottage at midpoint.
Midpoint Cottage, what an imaginitive name. I rolled my eyes when I first heard it, teasing my usually overimaginitive adoptive Mother. She was an artist, part time. She loved to paint and was good at it, but what she painted no one liked. It was too, 'bizarre,' 'flamboyant.' Most people just said 'bright.' It was bright. I liked it bright. This village needed bright, it was as dull and grey as it had been the first time we had visited it 5 years ago. Perfect. An excellant place to hide. If you needed to hide that is.