They Come and Go

The little foot trips in a tidal pool and its owner nearly goes skidding across the sleek sand.

The summer is gone.

The sky is dark and the sea is a metallic gray that violently lashes out onto the shores, drawing in anything it can find with its quicksilver hands.

The girl looks up and scans the horizon with her clear eyes. She blinks disappointingly when no sun peeks at her warmly through the wispy clouds.

She takes a step and spins back on her heel, as if she’s daring the sea to come and get her.

The spray splashes onto the sand, packing it into place and making the silt even.

It is disturbed by her small footprints, marks that she has passed this area by.

“No more sun,” she said to herself in a quiet, sing-song voice while rocking back and forth to her own imaginary beat.

The girl picks up a shiny stone and plays with it, skipping down the shoreline, staying just out of the reach of ebbing tide.

As the tempest gathers up overhead, she half-hums one more line to the sea.

“No more nothing.”

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