He laid his head back on the sand again, momentarily resting his eyes, his mind, his torment. It had been two weeks, four days and several hours since he'd left. He was here now, on this island, on this sand, and that was his reality.
Nothing else mattered, for the moment. Not the life he'd left behind, not the office, nor the wife, nor the child. His child? Now he wasn't sure. Everything came spinning back again, and he squeezed his eyes shut. So hard he began to see colors.
The colors swirling behind his eyes blurred into one lumpy grey color. He opened them again, and found the ocean, lapping at his toes now, was the same shade of grey. His grey.
One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE! If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.