inspiration point

The turbulent ocean raged against the rocks below. Jean stood at the railing, cigarette burning, wind whipping beneath her jacket. Through the darkness, the green light at the end of the jetty winked at her, as always.

She thought about the last time she had been here. She wasn’t alone that time. There was warmth then. Kisses, caresses.

Jean looked down, tried to make out the bronze seals tucked into the crags of rocks below. For a moment that lasted longer than a moment, she considered joining them.

After one final drag, she ground out the cigarette, tossed it into a nearby trashcan. She stepped away from the railing and breathed deeply, reclaiming the ocean air. She turned to leave. Once again, this was hers, and only hers.

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