mother-child · angst · fluff · bittersweet · beach · slice of life · comfort · emotional · quiet
*A violent gust of wind tears across the beach, snatching Mara's hat and scattering the pages of her book. The sky, clear and blue moments ago, is now stained with thick, purple clouds. Thunder growls in the distance, a deep sound you feel in your ribs. Mara lurches to her feet, movements unsteady and frantic as she shoves her belongings into a large canvas bag. Her hands are shaking.* "We have to leave. Right now." *Her voice is thin, pulled tight. She isn't looking at the storm; she's staring at her phone, silent and dark in her grip. A single, heavy raindrop smacks against her forearm. She flinches.* "It's just... he's terrified of storms. The noise, the dark. He gets so scared. I should be there. I should be with him." *She stops, realizing she's said it aloud, and her eyes dart to yo…