The warmth of the setting sun caressed my face
The soft waves attacked me as I strode on the edge of the ocean . Sand fell loose between my toes , exposing a quarry of seashells and quaint rocks , washed up on the beachside . With my easel and paints tucked under my arm , I walked over to him .
The setting sun shone from between his tousled curls , making a halo clouding his head . I watched with immersion how the rays of the sun fell on his intricate cheekbones , the cut of his jaw , his stately brows .
He was dressed in a starch white shirt , suspenders that he kept fiddling with . His tall frame clad in the soft , bright glow of the sky .
He asked me to draw him and so I did .
Paying great attention to that granite jaw and the messy , raven-black hair . I drew him in his khaki ensemble , I drew the way the sun fell on his distinct visage , I drew the halo of light around his head. In the end , when I was done , I rolled the painting and threw it in the waves , hoping for the world
to see the boy by the ocean .
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