EVEREST
Directed by the flora she saw, it was perhaps the guidance of her ears that would lead Isla in a new direction. Carried on a sea breeze was the unmistakable sound of a guitar, the origins of which just happened to be a slightly-high Everest Hart.
Perched on a rock with several of his shirt buttons in the wrong holes and the rest entirely forgotten about, Everest swayed to his own rhythm as he leaned against the frame of his guitar, one sandaled foot tapping in the grasses. Singing nonsense words that rhymed only because they had no meaning, most would say Ever had a decent voice. Not as good as his father perhaps, but then he'd always been more of a musician than a singer.
"I — can — hear — you—" He sang suddenly in a playful voice before glancing over his shoulder in Isla's direction.
Perched on a rock with several of his shirt buttons in the wrong holes and the rest entirely forgotten about, Everest swayed to his own rhythm as he leaned against the frame of his guitar, one sandaled foot tapping in the grasses. Singing nonsense words that rhymed only because they had no meaning, most would say Ever had a decent voice. Not as good as his father perhaps, but then he'd always been more of a musician than a singer.
"I — can — hear — you—" He sang suddenly in a playful voice before glancing over his shoulder in Isla's direction.
the boards will still creak
the leaves will still die
the leaves will still die
