(no subject)
The sky was gray and almost completely cloud-covered, but it wasn't cold or balmy, instead quite warm and comfortable. There were two children playing on the beach that day. One was a little blond girl, almost seven, with sharp tan lines on her ankles and knees. The other, a boy of about four, burdened by the traces of leftover baby fat and a timid yet thoughtful disposition, sat right next to her on the wet sand, apprehensive about the oncoming waves. They didn't seem like something he wanted to involve himself with - white, blue, and sandy water crashing over itself and invading the land in a desperate effort to take some of it with it on its way back - however, being a child, of course he was curious, and thus he was wooed by the sweet encouragement of the little girl to get closer, to sit, and to let the water run over him as it came in. It was pleasant. The waves came in and both their faces lit up; they giggled, splashed each other, scooted closer as the next wave came in.
There was a long pause, and a playful shriek of fear as the next wave crested. The boy second guessed himself, got up and ran. Perhaps the action was initially interpreted as the cute antics of a four-year old torn between his curiosity and his in fact rather unusual consideration of the world, for the girl shouted after him about her own lack of fear about the situation. It was as if she realized only very slowly that the boy was gone, and that she was alone in the waves. Her tone changed; the teasing turned into frantic screaming of his name, insecure and almost terrified screaming in desperate effort for him to return to her side. It was hard to tell whether the boy had indeed come back for her, or because the wave had passed; either way, had she been in any real danger, it would have been too late, and had it not been for the intervention of the outside world he would have been swept away instead by another wave upon his return.
Almost fourteen years later, the boy, now a high school graduate, almost a man with dreams, prospects, and a seemingly promising future, wonders if it was this girl from his early childhood who has come to indirectly symbolize his vision of a soul mate, if he so desired to place faith in such a thing, if it is this girl whose blurred face he sees in his dreams.
There was a long pause, and a playful shriek of fear as the next wave crested. The boy second guessed himself, got up and ran. Perhaps the action was initially interpreted as the cute antics of a four-year old torn between his curiosity and his in fact rather unusual consideration of the world, for the girl shouted after him about her own lack of fear about the situation. It was as if she realized only very slowly that the boy was gone, and that she was alone in the waves. Her tone changed; the teasing turned into frantic screaming of his name, insecure and almost terrified screaming in desperate effort for him to return to her side. It was hard to tell whether the boy had indeed come back for her, or because the wave had passed; either way, had she been in any real danger, it would have been too late, and had it not been for the intervention of the outside world he would have been swept away instead by another wave upon his return.
Almost fourteen years later, the boy, now a high school graduate, almost a man with dreams, prospects, and a seemingly promising future, wonders if it was this girl from his early childhood who has come to indirectly symbolize his vision of a soul mate, if he so desired to place faith in such a thing, if it is this girl whose blurred face he sees in his dreams.