100 Word Story

The car-park was pleasingly empty as her original version green Beetle rolled to a halt and she allowed the Pink Floyd track to finish. Emptying the final dregs of the short Americano dangerously perched in the make-shift cup-holder she grabbed scarf and hat and pushed out into the strong breeze tugging at the vehicle. The clouds were high, matching her mood; the wind racing, propelling her thinking as she strode out across the dunes.  The sea was down-right azure gorgeous: her senses were enlivened. How could today be anything less than a very good day: it wouldn’t. She knew it.