Oh the sands of Stromboli, how I miss you so. Your devilish black hue, a perfect compliment to the sun-kissed bronze that the sun lathered my body in. Canoeing in your crystal clear waters with jellyfish abound was a sight I will remember forever, never forgetting how my fingers dangled over the edge and brushed your warm waters. The deep blue sea, a blazing red sun, and the mountains which surrounded us. I will come back for you.
My sister, Natasha, is standing here at the edge of an old wood-work bench, fresh from the sea below and clutching a pair of sand-swelled shoes at her side. We just ascended from the rocky coast beneath us, called in by the faint scent of a bustling kitchen and the freshest seafood of the Sicilian seas.