The Beach, Thursday Afternoon

[intraspective]

Days like this were lonely.

Iris had gotten used to it, over the years, but that didn't really make her like it any better. It ached a bit more now that she had a set of memories where she hadn't been nearly so alone or so lonely for so long.

It was cold and she hated the cold, but it wasn't too cold, so she wandered through quiet streets, looking in the windows of closed shops, before she wound up at the beach, watching over the waters that were huge and loud and quiet too, somehow, all at the same time.

Like a voiceless scream of rage that was paradoxically content all at once.

She wasn't sure if she liked it, on a day like today, but she lingered by the water, walking along it, Silly bobbling around her head, sometimes bumbling down to peck at a shiny thing before coming back up rest a while on her shoulders, fluffing himself up against her scarf.

[Open beach is open, of course, should anyone be around.]