Midsummer

Ava sat cross legged on the beach, she closed her eyes and tried to let the sea cleanse her, invited it to wash a sense of calmness over her.

As her eyes closed, her other senses were heightened. She could hear the waves smacking and fizzing on the shore, smell the damp salt and musty sea air.

Her eyelids flickered. She couldn’t relax. It had been a mistake to come here. Even though it was warm, daylight, bright, her mind shot back to midsummer night last year, the first night that she had met him, under a blanket of twinkling stars and a huge majestic moon.

She could almost hear the crackle of the fire, smell the woodsmoke, taste the salt on his skin. She could smell the heat of the fire, the hops, the heady scent of the beers they shared, hear the clink of the bottles. The one that got away. Why had she let him go?

A crying gull brought Ava out of her reverie. It was no good daydreaming, she could never go back there. Ava sighed and stood up, brushed the sand from her legs and began to walk back to her hotel.

She heard the distant music of a fun fair up ahead, it’s tinkling notes sounding creepy and altered carried on the wind. As she drew closer she smelled hot dogs, onions frying and candy floss. She realized she was hungry. She jogged up to the stand and pulled some change out of her back pocket. The boisterous March wind whipped her hair in front of her face. As she fought to push it back and her vision was cleared, she took a sharp intake of breath as realized who was stood in front of her. It was him.

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