On the beach almost every sick visitor enlivened. The cool breeze that blows from the beach and the song of the wind whispering to the cypress can soothe all the souls who are joking underneath.
There wasn't much of a joke between them, and it was rare to see them sad or unhappy. All the visitors to the beach were happy people, and sometimes they shared and sat with him.
my television, every time I go to the beach I'm always alone even though I'm with loved ones. I let go of all the feelings that were once attached to my heart, all the memories that were silent in my soul. According to the fishermen, the beach is polluted with closed spaces. And forcibly dismantling because it is accused of being a place of immorality. The beach is now desolate, there is no word of love, let alone the longing they have shared together. Only a few anglers were tying their hooks on the iron piers.
The beach was previously a place where people shared love. A place where they comfort, hug each other and drop every kiss as a memory and promise as a proof that they want to separate, and are faithful to life and death.
I don't know whose wrath is shackled, until the beach is silent for anyone who sees it. It was as if the chambers of the heart had filled some corners of the building, and the cafes I had been to had been shut tight. In fact, a few months ago I sat and drank orange juice with an artistic caricature. We are talking about the advancement of social media and will develop a more advanced literacy culture in the future. However, all was in vain. There is no longer a fate that can be bet on the whole body, it has become a silent beach in the womb of a rainbow.
The sunset on the beach was like a golden glow. A splash of sick sunlight can heal all the wounds that have been inscribed with the separation that I want at all. The white sand waves that break the silence of the night can soothe all the wounds of the soul that have been hurt by unforgettable and unexpected encounters.
That's why today, this afternoon visited this beach. The beach has turned into a place of wrath for the cloaked humans who claim their name for the holiness of God.
I've been struggling for quite a while. And leaking out the recesses of longing that were once played by human children, the joy of children playing odong odong and even the construction workers who like to eat french fries in the carts of my village people. Now the beach is desolate, only a few hours will be allowed to remain on the beach, while the night will be forbidden by the wise men to be far from the wrath of the masses.
I leaked the river water that empties into the beach so clear today. The light blue river water is an inseparable part of the heart. I feel like drinking it. I wanted to approach the river, but I wanted to see there was no way to approach, for some fishermen were breezing in the rest-hall.
While in the corner there, several photographers near the park were taking pictures of friends at the location. Me and feel ashamed and something impossible to see what I'm doing here. After all, I went with my son.
For the last time before I part with the beach. I leaked flowers in the beautiful garden. The colors are soothing to my eyes. I want to say goodbye. Later the beach was destroyed by people who were dissatisfied with their desires and hearts on the grounds of hegemony and religious dogmas.
The beach is just a memory, longing has disappeared, love is no longer blooming. What remains are only memories that slowly fall in the broken age.*
Congratulations @afridany1! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :
You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOPTo support your work, I also upvoted your post!
Check out the last post from @hivebuzz:
Hello @afridany1, This story is poetic in its symbolic language. In some places it soars, and in some places it confounds, but throughout it carries a sorrow for a gift and a time lost.
Thank you for posting this effective story in the Ink Well community. Have you commented on the writing of other authors? This is something we expect of participants in the community.
Thank you, and keep writing!
@theinkwell, Thank you very much for your support. I happen to really like writing stories and will follow the whole process here. regards
Greetings, @afridany1. Your writing touches on the space of poetic narrative, which can be conceived as a play on words with no other demands than the metaphors themselves.
This is different from what we invite to publish in our community. We work with short stories, stories conceived in a narrative arc. We want to find in that story an introduction, a climax and a resolution. You might want to check out the writing recommendations and our rules on our home page.
We invite you to keep writing, we look forward to reading you.
@gracielaacevedo, Thanks, and I'll do that. As you said that narrative story. And if supported I also like to write prose. Hopefully I can write better in the future.
Hi @afridany1. I really enjoyed reading this post. You have a beautiful and melodic writing voice.
As @gracielaacevedo shared, we are typically looking for short stories in The Ink Well, with characters and progression. Of course the notion of a short story can be broadly interpreted, and we do have some writers in the community who post fairly esoteric work. But we do encourage you to see our catalog of fiction writing tips for inspiration, as our preference is for the classic short fiction model involving one or more characters a storyline, a story arc, and resolution. We look forward to seeing more of your work!
@jayna, Thanks, and I'll do that. As you said that narrative story. And if supported I also like to write prose. Hopefully I can write better in the future.
There are different ways of reaching people. Sometimes we tell stories with a literal narrative stream. Sometimes we show pictures that evoke emotion, but have no literal sense. Artists communicate. The measure of their success is the effect they have on people (I believe). Your piece affected me. I was left not with a literal narrative but with a sense of loss. Of happiness and love that is no more, that has been pushed out. By what? Something irrational and cruel.
Do I need to know more to be affected? No. Your piece mourns the loss and indicts the cruelty. This is actually a very old story and you remind us of that.
You are an interesting writer. I hope to read more from you.
@agmoore, Thank you, I will join this space community with my narrative skills, And I hope I get all the opportunities from friends here to share my story.