That night, I sat on the rocks overlooking the sea, breathing in the foamy spray, and relishing in the cool breeze that pushed my hair back from my face.
The sun was setting late, as it does in Scotland. It was already nine forty at night, and the last few golden rays were still spilling over the mountains, and lighting up the water. Better than any fireworks display.
"Ashelyn! Time to come in! We wouldn't want to lose you to those sharp rocks!" My dad called from the house.
"Okay dad! I'll come in, in a few minutes!" I called back. I stood and walked a short distance down the road to the ruins of an old stone cottage on the shore. Maya and I liked to have picnics there, among the ivy and the crumbling stone columns.
Walking back to the house, I saw Maya on her tree swing, reading a book.
"G'Night, Maya!" I called.
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