I can hear it out the window and feel it in the air. So many memories come flooding back from simply getting my toes in the sand or watching the water change color as it tumbles over itself onto the beach.
Ran to the beach and down the curve of the sand to where the water was too close to the shore to go on. As I sat on a rock and rubbed the sand off my feet to put my socks back on, I thought of time after time that my mother stood over us with a towel to rub the sand off our bodies and out of our hair. How we complained and ran away and how she always managed to catch us. The towel was a pink, faded from deep red.
Our skin glowed once the sand was off, glowing with the abrasion and the warmth of the sun leaking out of us as we sat in the cool of the house with the lights dim.
Ran to the beach and down the curve of the sand to where the water was too close to the shore to go on. As I sat on a rock and rubbed the sand off my feet to put my socks back on, I thought of time after time that my mother stood over us with a towel to rub the sand off our bodies and out of our hair. How we complained and ran away and how she always managed to catch us. The towel was a pink, faded from deep red.
Our skin glowed once the sand was off, glowing with the abrasion and the warmth of the sun leaking out of us as we sat in the cool of the house with the lights dim.
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