Diaries Magazine

Back Home.

By Owlandtwine
Back Home.Back Home.Back Home.Back Home.Back Home.Back Home.
As I pull clothes out of suitcases sand falls through my fingers.  Our clothes still moist and smelling of the ocean, but when I breathe in deeply I do not feel my breath of simple ingredients that I have taken in so effortlessly, mostly, these past days - salt, water, sun, horizon.  And that ocean smell is no longer fresh and briny.  Now it is dank and saturated in the fibers, a memory.  And sand is sand.
It takes me a few days upon returning from travels to come back to my senses.  I am processing, remembering, stowing stories in my mind.  Don't cry because it's over.  Smile because it happened.   I must remind myself.  For now, a little local flavor. 

Back to Featured Articles on Logo Paperblog

About the author

Owlandtwine 1192 shares View profile
View Blog

The Author's profile is not complete. The Author's profile is not complete.