Day 346 prompt: Sandy
Sandy.
I wish
this word
conjured
sun-soaked
stretches
of sparkling
shoreline.
But no.
Sandy
is not
a beach.
She’s
a seventies
version of a
fifties teen.
The good girl
a bad boy
wants.
The prim
blonde whose
Aussie accent
travels
the high and low
notes
of her musical
love story.
Sandy.
You hear her, too.
Don’t you?