Sally pulled the edges of her jacket together, wrapped her arms tightly round her body and shivered. She’d been here for hours now. Waiting. As usual. The things she did for love!
Of course it had been great earlier. The sun had been shining, it had been warm and there had been others around, all waiting, chattering and laughing, excited. She’d joined them, sitting on blankets on the grass, shared a bottle of wine or two, and as the sun rose higher, she’d stripped down as bare as she dared and made the most of the company and the sunshine. Now she could feel the hot sting burning across her back and shoulders. She’d regret it later, should have been more careful, but it would be worth a little bit of discomfort. And right now it was the only bit of warmth she had. The sun had dipped behind the mountains. Most of her new found friends had gone. In a flurry of excitement, reunited with their loved ones they had waved cheery goodbyes, and taken with them the camaraderie and the joy of the day, leaving behind just herself and a few others, forlornly waiting.
She tried not to think of her friends on their beach holiday. She could have been there now, getting ready to go bar hopping, dressed in next to nothing, complaining about sand in uncomfotable places.
And then she saw him. Walking, pushing his cycle slowly up the hill. He looked exhausted, defeated.
Resolutely, she plastered a bright smile on her face and tried not to feel guilty at wishing she was anywhere other than half way up a mountain in the Basque country.
Four word prompt: Love, basque, guilt, sand