She let her gaze surf along the fuming waves. Her feet, bare and cold, had sunken into the shore.
She lightly lifted her lids, scanning the horizon for a past that had been swallowed by the timeless ocean.
There is a future to be had, she thought, turning around to face the battered dunes. They seemed to roll on, eternity in their sand. She took a frantic step to the side.
The sun burst through the clouds and into her heart, pumping words into her veins: „Not clouds, nor dunes or water’s foam prevent the light from coming home.“
Eva van Beek 