Creative Writing: a Personal Eexperience, Memory

A cool breeze blew in from the sea, just the right kind of breeze that comforts you but makes no noise except the occasional whistle though the grass. The crickets sang and in the distance, just visible, the calm foamy waters of the tropical sea were breaking and gently shrinking back from the shore. At the hotel however none of this could be heard above the crude disco music thudding and pounding through the air like a vicious wind tearing at the ears intent on causing pain.
The building itself was situated in a steep valley that must have at one time held a river or stream now long gone.…