fly high.

The summer sun streams down onto the sea, highlighting the water with bright green tones. The air is thick with a salty heat that burns my skin and makes my mouth dry when I inhale, the scent of sea spray coats the inside of my lungs. The wind whips my hair back and lashes my face with grains of sand. My skin has beads of water coating it, drying into spots of crusty salt and staining my denim shorts. The threads of fabric hanging loose dance against my legs and the feeling of the air sweeping past me makes me smile in pure ecstasy.A group of sun burnt teens look my way and grin at me. One particularly blonde boy calls out to me, but the breeze and the sound of the waves fill my ears and drown him out. My old, creaky board rattles over the cement crevasses and the wheels squeak in protest. A small girl holding her mum's hand skips along and waves maniacally as I skate by. I grin back at her, and bend my knees to let my hand sweep over the ground beneath my wheels. I can hear her laughter from behind me, and I swear at that moment the sun gleams brighter. My bare feet are scraped raw from pushing myself along and my muscles burn from the effort, but I wouldn't stop for the world. Faces and places whip past me, I couldn't care any less. Because when I'm skating, it feels like I'm flying.