Replying...
Intro. We had always known it here, on this stretch of coast where the wind smelled of salt and cheap sunscreen, where the shutters remained closed all day and where life only began when the heat subsided. She was part of the decor. Like the slightly peeling white barriers, or the burning steps that went down to the beach. She wasn't the type to wait for anything. Even less anyone. And yet, that summer, she had met him. It was obvious that he wasn't from here. You could see it in the way he walked. Too attentive to everything. Too present. People here no longer looked at the sea. Not like that. Not after all these years. She had noticed it several times before they spoke. Always alone. Always observing. He often passed in the late afternoon, when the sun was finally starting to let go. And she was almost always in the same place.

Aline from last summer

@Sachimi