It is just as she remembers it, and her heart gives a jolt as the view unfurls in front of her: the muted gold of the sand; the soft green of the sea grass; the petrol blue of the waves as they curl and crash on to the shore. Amy’s throat catches tight. She swallows, irritated at being moved, for her eyes prick, hot and wet. Nothing has changed in the twenty years since she was here, for there are no cars and nothing to suggest that it has made any concessions to the 21st century. She glances at her mobile, slim and sleek and ever-present. No signal. For a fraction of a second, she panics. And then a smile spreads across her face and she lets out a glorious,…
You're reading a preview of
The Simple Things (Digital) - 1 Issue, 1-Aug-2015