Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Fifth March Blog. 13-3-15.

(Still with an oceanic theme.)

Great waves crashed against the rocks. Salt spray pounded the dark granite that had stood against its onslaught for many millennia, dark and brooding. The whining wind whipped the waves even higher, as if they were trying to climb those tensile bastions.
From offshore, it seemed as though nothing could withstand the seas lashing. But James Raid knew different. The mausoleum that stood atop those granite cliffs, from two months ago, belonged to him.

Gales, (he’d been told) in the past, crashed against its fortress-like walls, salt had eaten into the brickwork so that the side that faced the ocean was pebbled, encrusted, pitted. Many a window had smashed during these onslaughts. Many a chimneypot tumbled down, landing in a thousand pieces on the paved pathwy surrounding the house.

Good as new now. Though if this wind became any stronger, he…