Samples
The railing was cold from overnight, smooth under his palms from a thousand thousand people touching the metal. He looked down behind him, his backpack lying against the railing, corners of paper sticking out the top of the torn bag. He leaned down, careful to keep his balance on the railing, and pulled one out, sitting upright and smoothing it out against his thigh, the city drawn in shades of black and grey. Turning the drawing upright, he smiled once more, looking up to the cityscape in front of him, the sun rising over the buildings, reflecting off the shimmering water in the bay. Holding up his sketch, comparing his subject with his creation, he smiled once more before letting his hands fall to his lap, drawing flapping in the breeze before it was tugged away from his tired hands. He watched it float and twirl away in the invisible eddies before looking back to the city for a little while longer, remembering
Bryan smiled wide as he saw Miruki grab a thin stick from the surf line, longer than she was tall, rolling his eyes as she ran back towards him with an equally wide grin on her face. “What? I need something to poke other somethings with. It is a time-honored beach tradition, poking things that wash up with a stick, and this stick,” she planted it in the sun-warmed sand like a warrior planting a flag, standing proudly, “is my mighty poking stick.” She stood beside it triumphantly, one hand on her sarong-clad hip, the stiff breeze from the sea flipping her hair over her shoulders.
More coming with new orders.