(Stare the large window.)I stare out of the large window frosted in sunlight. The seagulls debate early in the morning, flying high over the tipped-up roofs.(Sunlight-seagulls debate in morning.)

(High the tipped-up roofs.)My ears open, letting in the rushing sound of crashing, golden waves. I imagine them smacking themselves against the rocks.(Open letting in sound.)

(Them smacking against.)One by one each bubbling valley opening to a crash of white thunder, stretching out across the crawling sand, licking up pebbles before dragging them back under the sea.(Up pebbles.)

Stare the large window.