Mark Laird, Brotherhood (Umbrella )

The triumphant haze danced to the pale clouds who gently sailed the salt and spray, faceless, projecting an expansive melancholy which shadowed all who gathered beneath it. Like a linen blanket, it was irritable, yet homely. The boys gazed into the distant curling gloom, slowly swelling and aggravating the water. Clustered together like cockles against granite, a flutter of dismay within their eyes, beside one another they were calm, a stable edifice, an endearing beacon amongst the threatening whispers of the sea in all its muted tones.

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