It was picture perfect. As close to ideal as any place could possibly be. The weather all year long was wonderful, with mild days and cool, crisp nights. There were typically around 300 days of bright, sparkling sunshine a year, and when it did rain, it was almost alway at night. The ocean’s warm blue waters surrounded the peninsula on three sides.
They had promised themselves that they would sell their home in the city and move to paradise once Eric retired. They had scrimped and save and had accumulated enough money to finally fulfill their promise. And so, when they found what seemed to precisely meet their needs, they took the leap.
Sure, it was a little more than they planned on spending, but they decided to splurge. They bought a lovely three bedroom, two-and-a-half bath beachfront bungalow. There was room enough for the two of them plus for their grown kids for when they wanted to come by and stay over for a weekend or longer.
They moved in and got settled and were enjoying the good life.
A thousand miles away, an earthquake.
A few days later, the tsunami.
That was the end of paradise.
Written for Susan Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Photo credit: Anurag Bakhshi.