Ficlets

OVer the Wall

Corey looked up and down the beach, but saw no one else besides this lone stranger. Suddenly a voice drifted through the night, above the crashing of the waves.
Lay down
Your sweet and weary head…

A tenor voice carried the familiar tune from Corey’s favorite fantasy movie over the sand. She listened quietly, enjoying his voice, until it came to her favorite lines.
Don’t say,
‘We have come now to the end.’
White shores are calling
you and I will meet again.

“Wow,” Corey whispered. It was barely a breath, but it was enough to break the spell.
The singer turned and looked at Corey in confusion.
“You’re amazing,” Corey said in awe.
The young man tilted his head, still seeming confused. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Could you come closer?”
“But… the wall,” Corey motioned to the concrete that came up to her chin.
“Oh, don’t worry, they never patrol this part of the beach.”
Corey clumsily scrabbled her way over the wall.
“There, was that really so difficult?” he chuckled.

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