The Fated Alpha Queen
From this day on, I will forever hate fucking seagulls.
Max assures me everyone has had their train of thought broken by these sky pirates at some point. We are walking along, letting the operatic song of the sea wash over us and admiring the exquisite beauty of the colours. I’m lost in the bliss of my own creative imagination as I notice that the sea is a creased roll of cyan blue, the clouds, or what little there are, are truffle-white, and the hazy horizon is bathed in a sunrise-pink glow. I notice that the rocks are like indented slabs of black marble, still glistening with the afterglow of the high tide. The anemones that stick to them are a peaceful, monk-brown, and the seaweed gleams
Bab Populer