"That, my dear, is a splash...of love"
The words of the wave sank in the shore's mind as she did her usual chores of listening to people's footsteps and conversations while they try to dip themselves in the soothing coolness of the beach.
She had been doing a lot of pondering ever since their unusual conversation with the wave. And she thought the wave had been giving quite a lot of effort to seek her attention that she ought to give something back to him, too.
She can't hide the fact that the wave had been taking bits of her everytime he comes. With his violent teasing and mysterious stares, the shore could not help but be in love with the wave. It was bizarre of her to fall short of reason to be in love.
Why did she love him anyway?
Maybe the tides had been helping the wave to be closer to her because he had been rolling and visiting her every so often now. And as he reached her, he would kiss her chastely, which she is very helpless of because she couldn't do something about it.
The physical contacts she had with the wave built up her desire to want some more. She had allowed herself to be used, and yet to be loved by a wave whose profession does not promise any signs of staying forever with her.
She had been listening to the light footsteps of people now. And at that moment she understood why some of them would stop walking on the shore line and would sit carelessly on the sand and stare at the endless view of the horizon.
