At the Beach

I watched the sea as it crashed into the shore, feeling the rolling waves at my ankles, soaking sand and dragging my feet. The water was warm, and I thought of you, or rather, thought about how you saw the sea. Remembering that sad smile upon your face as you peered into its depths.

For a long moment, I’d watched you watching the ocean. Watched as your eyes glistened with unshed tears, wondering what it was you saw in it, that I didn’t. After I’d found the courage to disturb the silence, I’d asked, “What’s wrong?” voice barely a whisper.

Another long moment passed before you shook your head and finally turned to me.

“It’s funny,” you had said, voice sardonic. “How the oceans swallow up our depravities, burying our mistakes – the human greed and selfishness.”

Your words swirled my head and I’d tried to see the humour you tied to them. Our eyes met and I stared transfixed; the setting sun at your back, golden rays lighting your face in an ethereal glow. That instant, I realised how beautiful the world was, beautiful because there was someone like you in it.

You stepped forward, further and further into the arms of the waiting waves. The water sloshing softly, rising against my skin with each step. You stopped, chest-deep.

I watched your palm hovering above the surface, heard you whisper, “Do you feel it?” into the salty air.

The water? I thought aloud, blushing as you laughed.

You glided your hand slowly across its moving surface, mind miles away once more.

“She endures it all, the filth we pump into her veins, the torment we unleash with the stealing and snatching and murdering of her aquatic children.”

Even now, the water rises.

“And like an abusive lover blind to their flaws, we continue to take, hurt and destroy.”

Still, it rises – gently and imperceptibly.

“We dig, heading toward our own demise, to a grave filled with scalding water – and …”

We drown ourselves. I said. You said. Your voice in sync with mine.

Submerged now, my head underwater.

I feel it.