By Michelle
Limestone cliffs pocked by wind, rain, and the swells of high tides bookend the beach. Moonah trees bonsaied by salt-laden winds cling to the dunes, protecting a carpet of white coastal daisy. She is drawn to the beauty of this rugged coast, and a walk along the beach clears her mind. She follows the track that hugs the foreshore, past the black Crying Rocks, named for the number of shipwrecks in the bay, before descending to the beach. Here she is her own force of nature. Here, her cries are heard. Here, dogs are off the leash and so is she.
Well done, leaves a very clear image.
Pretentious
Constructive criticism?
I think that in a story this short, the term speaks for itself. I feel no obligation to be gentle, given the amount of crap I read (and write).
This is exactly what the beach does for me. It is freeing.
I liked this very much. A real story in a few sentences. And the natural imagery is beautifully done.