i never liked the beach.
the sand never felt right.
the sun was always, too hot.
the water always, too cold.
mother always bought me the prettiest suits
in her vain attempts
to welcome me, into her world.
but the salt in the air
and the sand under my nails
made me more than eager
to be able to close my eyes
and will myself away.
-
a man with time worn and leathery skin
stood at the end of the beach
his eyes were the color of sea glass
he gave me a small white shell
that sat comfortably in my palm
i ran my calloused thumb over the ridges of the shell
i counted nineteen grains
i rolled them between the pads of my fingers
it still didn't feel right
but it felt more right, than before.
-
so i walked to the water
ignoring the discomfort
and the sand gathering under my feet
i took my right foot
and put it underwater
my toes wriggled, exploring this foreign feeling.
i stood and i let the waves wash up to my ankles.
the water is still cold
it is only my feet.
but for now-
it is enough.
-n.c
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHORS NOTE: Oh my gosh, I have readers all over the world and that's amazing!
You guys should comment or message me because I'd really love to get to know you.
I'm also only at 6 comments sooooooo.
Please vote/ comment and promote!
I love you guys :)
