Pinches of Prose #1

The girl’s toes wiggled in the golden sand as she stared across the water towards where the sea melted into the horizon with no clear in-between. In-between was exactly how she felt, in between life and death, in between inner chaos and an equally unsettling peace. Here, on the beach, she could make herself soar back in time and visit the carefree days. Here, on the beach, she could imagine a small wooden sailboat bobbing on the ocean like a child’s toy— and inside the sailboat, a little girl and her father, who was patiently teaching her to work the ropes and make the boat move right and left, slicing the waves. Here, on the beach, she still heard her own tinkling childish laughter. Across eons‚ it seemed.

But the girl knew those days were over, long over. She was alone now, on the beach, and her father had set sail for other horizons…leaving her behind, helplessly behind. The waves kept lapping the shoreline and sending salty spray into the air like mist, and in her perplexed, troubled state, the girl interpreted their rhythmic, indifferent action as somewhat hostile. The ocean had never truly cared for her. If the ocean had cared for her‚ it surely wouldn’t have let her parents die…

As she stood there, a lone silhouette imprinted on the setting sun, her golden hair billowing around her, the girl felt as if the waves were slowly but surely washing away everything left inside of her. Even her name.


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