Sarah tried to ignore the wind and focus on her sketch. She'd clamped the pages down to prevent them fluttering, but she was having a hard time keeping the book still. The light was just right and she wanted to capture the moment before the clouds saturated the view with grey. The water was calm, save for the wake of small yachts or adrenaline junkies skimming the waves with their kites. Behind her, local dialects and raucous laughter spilled out of the waterside pub and skittered across the street. She hooked her left ankle around the railing, willing the wind to give her respite.
"You might want to move."
She assumed the voice was directed at someone else, and continued shading.
"Excuse me? You might want to move."
