The day is warm. The wind is light. The gentle sea is still.
Out there, beyond the haze of dream awaits the one who is lost and the one who now returns.
The one who is lost stands amidst a veil wrought of salty spray. He is guilt and longing made manifest, whispering words you cannot hear. You run to him, calling a name you no longer remember. If he ever was at all, then he is now long gone. A faint and fading mist.
The sea retreats and only the one who now returns remains.
She is promise and she is potential, and upon this plain of dancing, windswept sand, she comes to you. She is an oath fulfilled and a dream made real. A memory of long ago renewed.
But she is different now. In her face and eye there is the weight of endless time. A weariness of which you’ve not yet known. She is changed and you are changed and what once was will never be again.
Yet here she stands before you, for this is the beginning of something new.
The day is warm. The wind is light. The gentle sea is still.
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Thank you for your time and attention.
Maximilian. I like the tone and feeling and atmosphere of "What Was Lost....etc." I think you've caught the readers attention and this could be developed into a longer piece. I would certainly read it. Love the scene you've created.