Beneath a Fallen Paradise

A sense of calm falls gently beneath a starry, deep-blue sky. In the distance lay the mountains, shadows under the solemn, muted twilight. It’s still. Picture great big palms towering over enclosed concrete walls. Hear the distant waves that contrast the teal waters. Unbothered, before a bygone shimmer; a different time; a timeless scene. Breathe an air of salt and clean-cut grass. Feel the vivid smell of chlorine and the tiles it wetly paints upon. The calm is fragile still. Like ripples in the glowing water, sent by a fresh night breeze; reflections of stone structures interrupted for a brief, brief moment. Their lights dimly shine. They fall sedately on each surface, spreading gently, casting lines and shadows. Just like a damp towel, striped red and white. Quietness finds refuge in a dream-like state; within waves and lines; curves and stairs; man-made pits and mounds. And just for a night’s brief moment, you leave it all behind.