By: Isabella Wong

Shades of orange and red surround the sky.

The lulling crashing of the waves,

Washing away the soft, warm grains of sand,

That shielded my feet.

I rise from my spot.

And walk on the soft, sandy surface,

Mesmerized by the beauty,

Shown at the end of each day.

The color of the sky became duller and fainter.

I hear the sounds of seagulls,

every second, you can hear it diminish.

It is, after all, drawing closer to the end of the day.

I no longer hear the sound of children’s snickers and giggles.

I hear nothing but the sound of the waves composing its musical rhythms.

Now, a bright, white star descends,

Right in front of my eyes.

The sun has set and is out of sight, obscured

until the start of tomorrow.

Another day has ended,

And tomorrow, it starts all over once again.