The metal walls caged me.
My body strapped into place as I tried to twist free.
The square clear windows teased me, offering a glimpse outside of my jail.
Small houses. Towering palm trees. The smallest glimpse of unending blue.
I was drowning, choking on the rising tide of longing – so close to my wish.
The “fun day” a new form of torture, forced to look at rockets and planes – the museum a prison. I wanted to run, escape. My dream pulled at me through the morning and afternoon, taunting me for being so close. Desperate pleas tossed aside with “later”. Begging transformed into whining as despair overwhelmed me at ever reaching my goal.
The panoramic view ceased movement. I fled my confinement in record time.
I inhaled the taste of salt and something else… fish? The breeze carried it to me, as my steps quickened.
A crashing sound rolled, like quiet thunder whispering on the far horizon. The rolling echo sang to me, begging me to play.
Down wooden steps, jumping them two at a time.
My feet sank, the soft sand cupping my sneakers, inviting me to stay a while.
“Can we go in?” Eagerness danced from my lips.
The shoes disappeared and I raced on tiptoes around piles of abandoned seaweed and driftwood, the gritty surface still warm from the day’s sun.
The texture firmed, as moisture seeped into the sand. I slowed as my perfect footprints shadowed me.
I drank in the view.
The dark blue gray water stretched to the sky and beyond, dappled with bits of green. It greeted me, rolling to my toes, kissing each one with its cool lips.
Transfixed, I stepped forward.
The water rejoiced, surging my way, surprising me with a larger wave. I squealed as it exploded against my legs, spraying my entire body and dampening my clothes. Salt sneaked onto my tongue.
The water giggled at me, running away like my two year old brother when in trouble.
It gripped the sand beneath my feet, holding it tight and stealing it from me. The ground disappeared beneath me, as water replaced it – the oddest sensation ever experienced in my thirteen years.
The water and sand enthralled me and I froze, helpless to resist their coupled power.
Twenty minutes passed, my muscles locked.
The sand devoured my feet, nothing viewable below my ankles.
The water crept closer, higher, the tiding rising as the sun dipped lower into the sky.
My clothing clung to me, soaked from the battering of salty spray.
Another rogue wave hid among the others, just slightly larger, knocking my feet free as it revealed its true strength.
I laughed in shock, delighted to hear its secret, and moved to shallower waters.
The sand and water continued undaunted, combining to caress the bottoms of my feet as they rolled away as one, claiming my toes as the prize.
Frozen in their spell.
The dark shadows of the dunes covered us; the sun counted down to darkness.
“It’s time to go.”
A screamed welled from my soul.
Screw Disney World! Forget Epcot! I don’t want another plane ride! I’m staying here forever!
I caught it, shoving it back.
“Five more minutes?”
A smile, my wish granted.
Over too soon.
My family walked to the steps, as I lagged behind. I peered over the blackening waves.
“Good-bye,” I whispered.
I didn’t know when we’d meet again.
The sand refused to release me and embraced every wet surface it reached.
We returned to the car, my sister and I sodden dolls of sandy, salty water. Towels pulled from the trunk formed a barrier, as we stripped off our clothing, pulling on our bathing suits.
I laughed at the irony.
Strapped into my seat belt, I spied a final look at my ocean.
I’ll be back.
So this week, we want you to write about sand.
It doesn’t have to be summer-related.