The Beach

The Beach – Eli Rouimi Oct. 21, 03


I lock the door to my car as I take off with excitement towards the same path I take every day to get to the beach. I run fast with anticipation, not realizing that the knot holding my bathing suit tight to my waist is slowly untying. I must slow down. The setting sun looks like an immense yolk slowly evolving into an orange red color. I have goose bumps creeping up my bare arms and chest as the hasty wind comes rushing right past me. I’m as excited as a kid promised a pony ride.

I quickly make my way toward the beach chairs since my feet are sinking into the very hot sand, but the grainy sand is still comforting to the soles of my feet. Turning my head I can see the lengthy path of footsteps that I am leaving behind. I finally make it towards the beach chairs. I drop like a heavy rock that’s been at the edge of a cliff waiting to fall after many years. My mind instinctively goes blank. Everything ...