Hope you're having a great summer. This lovely piece of prose, submitted to "In Your Own Words," will make you want to go to the beach right away!
Seafoam
by Yael, age 16
The beach was at ease that morning, and, to my eyes, deserted. The wind was billowing and speaking, its words to be taken as they would.
I grew tired of reading propped up in the sand and slouched, like the boater in that Seurat painting. I was like that, brooding, for a while. I grew restless, bending my other knee and resting my head on the ground. Resting against the dark sands of the beach, I found the back of my dress far too dry, the harsh bits of sediment whipping and commanding my blonde hair. I rose and began to feel the gentler sand pressing against my tired feet. My eyes stretched outward. Might my feet touch the water too? My hands dared first, and I found it both cold and warm at once, and pleasantly inviting. A strong wind blew in from the sea and I hesitated. I bundled myself, sitting on my knees just next to the incoming tide. I scooped up the sand, thinking it more lovely than anything I’d ever felt. Deeper I tunneled, and to my amazement I found water underneath the sand, and little pale creatures swimming, darting here and there. Ancient sandcrabs, like little turtles, were plentiful too, shy as anything. I let my fingers go limp like seaweed so they might dart through them. I was delighted. A fat little crab lingered in the palm of my hand, half scared-to-death, the poor thing, but braver than I’d ever been in my life. Never, if I were so small, would I dare venture where the light hit me. It occurred to me then. I was not small. I could venture. Gingerly, I put the sand back into place and smoothed it. I let my feet enter the water, stepping lightly. I went in deeper. It’s the strangest thing to be half cold and half warm, half sea and half land. I scaled the rocks next to the beach, but I was too afraid to stand upright on them, so I decided to enter from the sand once more. I walked in, going deeper and deeper so I might immerse myself without having the water overtake me all at once.
It was a wave that did it, sweeping me under and filling my nose with seawater. It sent me tumbling round and round till I reached the shore. I was horrified, but I laughed. It was fun, I thought, wasn’t it? I rushed in quickly this time, and began jumping around everywhere, keeping time with the waves, grabbing bits of seaweed and twining them around my fingers and into my hair. I even tried swimming.
Before an hour had been spent, the sea became rough. There was a devilish thrill in me as I expected to turn another somersault in the water when the waves swept me off my feet. I didn’t know of currents, but one swept me out anyway. I was soon without clothing, the white of my body that had never seen the sun struggling little against the powerful waves. It was scrambling more than anything, because I didn’t know what to do. The water, combined with my own struggles, contorted me and made me peer into the sky. It was nearing dusk. The loves of my life flashed through the darkening green of my eyes.
So gentle was the motion of her form, so happily did it embrace the motion of the sea that was her dear one’s eyes that, all too willingly, five mermaids took her, and she became one with the foam.
