something i wrote earlier

The heat of the warm sun was beginning to wane, so they decided to walk along the beach, the sun was now drooping very low in the sky, resembling somewhat an old man’s face. It was a very sad event. They slept on the beach that night, all alone, more alone than they ever could have been at home, with neighbours peering through windows and round bends. It had been a long night of alcohol and tobacco, they had filled their eyes with red, from the wine to the smoke, and listened softly to jazz as the hours floated by. The time for them to go had come and passed, they should have known, that when they went to stroll along the beach, the brilliance of dark, deep water, reflecting the light of the moon, the cool breeze licking their shoulders, he wrapped his arm around his lover as she raised them to ward off the cold, he pulled her tight and she nestled her head into the nape of his neck, he peered down at her dark hair, and looked long into the sea, into nothing, and felt that they may be more isolated than anyone had ever been. The old, yellowing moon had ascended and hung almost above them, not quite overhead, as if it was nervous that it may not be able to see them if it passed its bulk over their heads, and they may escape, and be happy. The light was almost iridescent that shone that night, it illuminated the debris of the days, the burned cinders of fires and the lost memoirs of spades of buckets. They lay down on the sand which was just beginning to lose the noonday warmth it had treasured through the afternoon and was being taken by the fresh cool breeze of the night. They lay and looked up, the sky was not dazzling, a few stars hung in the sky, but a blanket of clouds had been laid down, and the beach nestled into the grey canopy.