Written by: Hannah Tayla
The sun scorches the sand on the beaches. The seagulls croak their birdish announcements, alerting- even bragging- to the others about their newfound food. Sweet vanilla ice- cream drips down, like foam on a winding seashore, the hands and elbows of mischievous arms, while toddlers hobble across the sand like crabs in their bursting nappies.
Some women stretch out like hammocks beneath the brilliant sun, vainly hoping that their skin would become a golden brown under its merciless heat. The copper bell of the little man on his blue bicycle, with his cooler box filled with icy treats, tinkles in the blinding bliss of early summer.
The smell of salty fish and chips clings to the air as the breeze flies like a kite across the harbour. Boys in their underpants do backflips and sleek dives in public pools, while their parents lie on picnic blankets on the grass listening to gqom on their speakers.
Chicken bones and cigarette stompies lie buried in the sand like footfalls across the beach, as the great big orange circle in the sky sinks and drenches the land in the purest gold.
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