The sand blew across the beach, stinging Ray’s face
Roaring waves ran themselves onto the shore
Everything screamed pirate to him
And to think the chest could be buried right below his feet
So many years ago his grandfather had hinted about this very place
Under the tropical sun, Ray was finally ready to prove the old man right
Reaching for his shovel he began to dig, looking for the possible riches
Eventually Grandpa laughed, picking Ray up and carrying him into the surf
I decided to do the Inktober Challenge in my own way. I am going to try to do an acrostic for each Inktober prompt. Hence the topic for today.
So the air took on a decisive chill
Now was the time to put away the mower and find the shovel
October wasn’t too early to prepare because who knew
When the white stuff would begin to fall
The ashes drifted down from the sky, covering everything for miles. Those ashes were people’s lives and memories, and he was there to stop more people’s memories from clogging the landscape.
Davis picked up his shovel and began to dig once again. While the task was physically and mentally grueling, he kept thinking how good it would feel to wash off those memories when the job was done and the fire was contained. But for now it was him and his shovel, and he wasn’t going to let those people down.
Memories are precious and shouldn’t go up in smoke.