Short Stories

Sand, Sea, Sky

   Long ago, they told stories of how the sea, jealous of the land's beauty, had swept onto the shores and took that beauty prisoner — and how the land, in turn, had trapped and stole some of the ocean's lure for its own. It was an endless dance, the stories said, an endless dance of deceit and envy.

Today, the dance had slowed to a waltz. And yet there was plenty of reason for the sea to be jealous. Usually solid, the sand turned to molten glass as the sun set; catching the light like a fisherman's hook and weaving it into shimmering tapestries on the equally shimmering ground. Even the sky so far above had taken notice, and used the gentle yellows and the rolling blues as its own.

There weren't many places like this left in the world. All the busy hustle and glaring lights could hardly leave space for natural wonders — though they were needed far more than things like cars were, she thought. And so she came here, needed to come here sometimes, walked among the sands for a while. Looked up at the sky.

A crash of waves, and suddenly her grandpa was there beside her. He was looking up, too, pointing up at the clouds, at the birds.

"What's that?" She would ask, and he'd tell her all about the wispy cirrus clouds. "What's that?" As she pointed to the stratus ones below. "What's that?"

"It's a black-legged kittiwake, my little Sylvie." And she could almost hear him, if she closed her eyes.

But things were different, now. Now a great pier jutted from the sea. Now children ran along it, shouting in joy, the trace of candy floss in the air spilling out and disturbing the sea's own sacred scent. Now parents walked behind them, too focused on their own lives to stop and notice the realm of beauty around them. The pier jutted out, and she couldn't spot the birds anymore.

And yet...

And yet it wouldn't last forever. The warm thought seeped into her cloudy mind, slowly easing the fog away. It couldn't last forever. She knew, as she listened to the ocean's song, that the great pillars of wood would one day give way, that among it all, the land and sea would continue their dance. One day, the busy hustle would ease and the glaring lights would die. And then there would be what there had always been.

Just the sand, and the sea, and the sky.