A small bungalow stands alone amidst an endless sand horizon. Its once brightly painted shingles look as though they have become bone; bleached by the sun and smoothed through decades of sandstorms. Two sets of footprints in a line lead up to the door.
A cellphone resting on the table plays music softly, mixing perfectly with the whistling wind. An old woman in a rocker sits next to the bay window with her great granddaughter. As she watches the girl spin in circles around the middle of the room the old woman's face glows, projecting outward years of sun it once absorbed in her youth. Dizzily, the child catches her foot on the woven carpet and falls with a loud thud. Tears well up in the young girl's eyes, but the old woman swoops in before she is able to make a sound.
"Shhhh my dear," she whispers gently to the child. "There's no need to cry. Here, let me show you something."
The old woman opens a closet door and from the highest shelf, grabs a small wooden chest. Intrigued by its strange carvings, the young girl takes her pointer finger and traces the shapes that lace each edge.
"Those are dolphins," says the old woman.
The child's eyes open wide, "What's a dolphin?".
"Well, dolphins were magnificent creatures that once lived in the ocean," she explained while unlocking the little chest.
After placing the girl on the floor, she sits back down in her chair and watches as the child takes out each item. First, an oyster shell, its insides still a deep purple. Then two empty black skate egg cases. When she takes out the last item she wrinkles her nose and tilts her head, perplexed by what it could be. The old woman stretches out her frail hand, takes the final object, and holds it up to her face. Her chest drops and she sighs as she turns toward the window. Eyes glossed over, she sees what once was.
Three children run around tidal pools of water, splashing and giggling as the seaweed tickles their bare toes. The smallest of the three stares deeply into the water, reaches down, and picks up a hermit crab. Scared, the creature attempts to hide in his make shift shell, a red plastic cap that is far too small. Determined to help, the girl digs into her pocket and pulls out an empty shell, placing it next to the little crab. Although hesitant, the crab enthusiastically pushes off the cap and quickly moves in. The girl holds the red cap in her hand for a moment, then puts it in her pocket as she skips into the distance.
"It's such a shame what we've done to our great mother earth," she murmurs to herself as she touches the window, her wrinkled finger tips graze the soft pane. Worn like a piece of sea glass.
Turning to her granddaughter she says, "Come here little one, let me tell you a story."
YOU ARE READING
Fiddle Sticks and Random Bits
Short StoryMuch like a junk drawer, you never know what you will find when you open it up! A collection of short stories and poetry. There is something for everyone in here.
