I thought when we'd run to the end of the beach, we'd run to the end of the earth.
The sun beaming over the horizon, I thought we could touch it.
Glazed over the sands, we didn't stop moving. We ran as far as our little legs would allow, we were determined to break these speeds and reach the end of the earth.
But no matter how fast we could go, the sands stretched more and more before us.
Shells patterned the ground and seagulls flew into the impenetrable distance.
Eventually we stopped, breathing unsteady and we weren't satisfied.
We were led to believe the sun could be caught in our hands, and we could harness its glow and warmth.
That we could somehow control the unimaginable, like our daydreams foretold.
Soon we were called back to reality at the tender age of 5, all too aware of the uncatchable sun.
This never stopped us though.
Because every now and then, we'd run towards her and every morning we'd feel her through the glass as she lit up the room.
We might not have caught her but we ran by her side.
And for us, that was enough.
Love, Sunny
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Love, Sunny
Short StoryA collection of short stories and poetry from the perspective of Sunny. Sunny is a Black, Queer and non-binary energy, that writes letters to her chosen family to let them know they're safe and loved.
