Joyride

She drove madly that day. Madly, down the winding beach road where little white haired ladies walk in their white linen outfits and big hats. They fly down from the North like birds to their winter homes and country clubs. Perhaps they are drawn to the sunshine and decadence of Palm Beach. She wondered where she would be when she grows old.

Madly, she drove further down the road into the older part of town. The echoes of the past ring true in places like that. With the right point of view, one can see what it must have been like fifty years ago. The old architecture and art deco buildings with their pretty pink and blue pastels worn down from the salt water, sea breeze and the years. Time can make things so beautiful. She hoped that time would be kind to her.

 

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