What i sea.
My not-so-friendly house, houses a not-so-friendly neighbour next door. She is a woman of character. A woman that burns leaves, lambs and legacies. The house is a place that we inherited with much animosity. The only lovely aspect of the house is the window sill. It has 29 rusted grills (to be precise), wooden doors and overlooks the Arabian sea. I can watch the sunset from my window sill, I can watch the crimson sunset from my window sill, I can hear the waves. I can hear the ocean cry. The filthy water seeps into the arms and drenches the skin of the rocks go sore. The sound of infant conch shells crushing when you walk. The waves that have a certain motion. Today, what I perceive as the sea is something different. I know, a man-made road is going to be built across and spoil what I woke up to everyday. I have been hopping over stones, crossing huge mossy structures. Oh my! (Jeez. My legs are stretching) I like to take pictures. I like to watch the sunset everyda...