Triggering: Waves.

[WhisperingSilence]

She sat looking out the window of the bus, graffiti carved into the windows of the bus , behind the graffiti the sea. High tide. The calm after the storm. Ships half sunken and tide markers half submerged and leaning to one side trying to stand tall after the storm knocked them back a few. It looked so calm but at the same time she knew things were wrong. Under those waves a storm was always brewing. Ships were always sinking - not just in the sea but in her mind to. The day before the waves had crashed high over the sea wall smashing the ships into the wooden jetty and wave breakers. The smaller ships didn't make it, the larger ones did. As she looked out at the sea pieces of debris of small sailing and rowing boats floated on the sea's surface, a reminder of the storm that had been. Sand covered the pavement. A single seagull was perched on the cone of a slightly leaning tide marker. As the bus drove by it occured to her that the sea was like her life. She thought about how things came and went like the waves and the sea, how things came and went like the tide and how just like the storm her life was often the aftermath of a storm. Wether that be a storm inside her head of thoughts and fears and worries and memories, or a storm from what goes on inside her house when the door is shut and everyone else her friends, her neighbours and the others on the bus are all safely asleep in thier beds shes laying in hers waiting for the shouting and the screaming, the slamming of the doors to stop, the constant hustle of people coming and going and the tv blaring out so loud her old broken metal bed frame vibrating with the noise of the tv to get a few hours sleep.

Suddenly being a small sailing boat being smashed into the side of the jetty sounded like a far better place to be than being in her house. The bus pulled to jolting stop catapulting her forward causing her to nearly bang her head onto the plastic handle bar seperating her from the person directly in front of her bringing her back to now and away from her thoughts. The bus hadn't travelled far just 5 minuets up the road to where the beach huts were - the sea still calm , small waves rippling towards the beach huts - the beach huts unlike the small sunken ships and the little sailing boats whose debris now scattered through out the sea itself surprisingly remained intact - for little wodden structures this was quite odd. But then the beach huts hadn't been smashed into the jetty or been slammed about in the sea, they had meerly met the waves as they crashed into shore the day before bearing little if to no damage to their structure.

People were walking their dogs along the shore, children ran along aside throwing stones into the sea, elderly couples stood just watching , a few lone fishermen with their rods and fishing gear stood in a line trying to get a catch. The sun reflected and glistened off the sea its glare bright enough to almost blind someone if they looked directly at it for too long.

[hocus pocus]

I like this part, it's powerful and easy to relate to. I really like the third paragraph, too.

Under those waves a storm was always brewing. Ships were always sinking - not just in the sea but in her mind to.

[Ennui.]

This is one of your best.