The Beach, Thursday Evening
Okay, it was sixty degrees and perfect weather tonight and Miley was missing Rio. That meant she was at the beach, yes.
It wasn't that crowded, so she spent a while just walking up and down, holding her shoes in one hand and squishing the sand between her toes. Then after a while of that, she took a seat in the sand with her feet dangling in the water and started drafting a song.
Sometimes she could be calm, okay?
"Dangflabbit," she muttered, "what rhymes with doorhinge? Sweet niblets."
Well. Not all the time.
[[open beach!]]
It wasn't that crowded, so she spent a while just walking up and down, holding her shoes in one hand and squishing the sand between her toes. Then after a while of that, she took a seat in the sand with her feet dangling in the water and started drafting a song.
Sometimes she could be calm, okay?
"Dangflabbit," she muttered, "what rhymes with doorhinge? Sweet niblets."
Well. Not all the time.
[[open beach!]]