On The Beach
I sat on the sand facing the sea, with salt-scented wind blowing harshly into my face. The biting cold weather made my bones tremble, so I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, struggling to generate some warmth into my body.

In front of me the ocean, which used to be a brilliant diaquiri, was now a colour of dreary grey. The sky was overcast and the clouds were heavy with predicted rain. The icy win picked up speed, hence whipping my dark hair into a frenzy. The sand beneath my feet attached themselves to the wind and followed their leader on a never-ending conquest of space.

The greyness of the sky was so identical to that of the water that it swallowed up the horizon, making it impossible to tell the sea apart from the sky. From where I was sitting I could see a lone beam of sunlight trying, against all odds, to push itself through the dark clouds. The ocean stretched on forever into a wide and unbounded pool of greyish and meaningless nothingness.

I heard the angry waves slamming themselves against the lethargic rocks, as if trying to penetrate their hardness. I heard the distinct rumble of thunder in the distance and knew a thunderstorm was brewing. i felt the little ripples of tide lapping greedily at my bare feet and felt, in my bones, the chilling temperature of the water. The waves never ceased to stop trying, and I saw Mother Nature's electric eyes shooting a spark across the sky. Her agonized screams grew louder, the waves became angrier and the little ripples became tides big enough to pull me into its undertow.

The single beam of light was gone; the clouds had eaten it up. And soon the waves would devour me, too. I stood up and retrieved my bicycle. I hopped on and rode quickly away, after taking one last look at the fascinating painting of Mother Nature's aggression.

Then I felt the first drop of rain on my head.