Tradition – #writephoto

fading

I wandered along the puddle-drenched promenade, head bowed against the bitter coastal breeze, hands jammed firmly in my coat pockets. It was a late winter afternoon and the weather had chopped and changed all day. The last rain shower had chased off the seaside strollers, so I was alone, save for the squawk of a buffeted seagull out at sea.

I sat on a damp bench and gazed out at the horizon. The fading sun was attempting to break through the shapeshifting clouds, sunbeams shining spotlights on patches of the rough grey sea.

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