Tossing the phone into her bag absentmindedly, Laura continued her stroll along the beach until she reached her favourite spot, right at the bottom of the cliff where nobody else would dare to venture. It was quiet; peaceful. A kind of stillness overcame her whenever she reached this special place. Her breathing slowed, her eyes blinked softly, her mind: soothed by the continuous grumble of the waves. Laura folded her legs beneath her and allowed herself a moment to think. A moment to dream; a moment for her, alone. Finally, she was away from it all, away from home, away from her so called “friends”, away from the contorting ideals of the world around her.
She drifted off, not too sleep, but away from consciousness. Behind her eyes, stars danced, skipping and leaping around her. Other things joined the stars: papers, lips that spread revealing slightly crooked teeth, a plate with a crack down the middle, a mirror. Their dance became restless, Laura’s heart was the drum to which they danced to, faster and faster it raced as they closed in on her. A taunting jeer arose and stains appeared on the plate as it cracked in two. Laura tried to back away but there was nowhere to run, she was stranded, alone; even though she was totally surrounded. She held her head in her hands and allowed her hair to fall nonchalantly across her eyes. Her mouth pursed as she whispered condolences to herself.
The tide awoke her from her trance as her feet dipped into the hostile ocean. She stood up far too quickly and had to grasp for a rock to steady her shuddering knees. She gingerly reached down to retrieve her bag, and slinging it across her left shoulder, she began again the homeward trek. By no stretch of the imagination, could her journey be described as merry, joyful or even moderately contented. Her feet dragged along, her arms fell limply by her sides and her eyes stared dully at the concrete beneath her. She knew full well what awaited her at home, indifference and dinner; she didn’t know which one was worse.