We stand a pool’s length apart. Bow ties bring bruschetta on dainty plates. Sixty-three rooms filled with happier couples are stacked under our feet and you’re only aware of the blonde that might touch your forearm. The wind swells, smells of ozone.
High Rise
Published by
Northwest Journals 
I feel a storm coming – going to blow down that house.
What a wonderfully emotive description of your setting. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for commenting, Donna-Louise!
Hmmm….cruise ship?
Check the title. 🙂
I thought that was a trick/word play. Hah!
I meant it to bring to mind the setting, the wind gust, and the feeling of freedom.