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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?