I set the alarm for midnight. The volume was kept loud enough for me to hear, but not enough for the sound to reach other parts of the house, most importantly, my parent’s room. I rarely slept between bedtime and midnight when plans were made, but the alarm was there just in case I drifted off.
At the appointed hour, I dressed in the dark, turned the doorknob to my bedroom door and slid through the kitchen and out the side door to the driveway. Once I rolled my car down the drive and onto the street, I headed to the other end of town to pick up Shelley, my partner in crime.
We turned on the stereo and headed west to Newport Beach. Once there, we headed to the pier via the donut shop. With a few glazed donuts and a couple of black coffees we wandered to the end of the pier, past the late night fishermen and occasional couples sitting on benches. At the end of the pier, we stood on the railings enjoying our coffees and listening to the ocean. The Pacific, loud and black in the night relaxed me. We talked about what we’d do at the weekend, the people we knew, things that worried us, like the future.
As I pulled into the drive a few hours later, the sky began to lighten with the first signs of the morning. I crept to my room, having first removed my shoes in the kitchen. As I settled into my bed, the last thing I’d hear before sleep descended, was the sound of the alarm in my parent’s room.
Although Edinburgh has much to recommend it, I miss the sound of the ocean at night.
Think about a place that gives you comfort. Think of a specific memory and describe it. Sounds, colours, people and scenery. Let us know what it’s like to be there.
Writing Prompt: The Sound of the Ocean