Out to Sea
The sand burns our feet and she lures us in to her humble home, convincing us it will cool us down. As we jump into the white foam, seaweed wraps around our feet which are now stinging from the salt water. “Come in closer” she insists and we blindly follow the command. The water is up to our stomachs now and we look back to the shore. There, are mother is reading on a beach chair with streaks off sunscreen across her face. We cup water into our hands and throw it on each other, giggling with delight. An otter pops up in the distance and we swim toward it trying to get a better look at it, or pet it, or maybe even bring it home as a pet if mom said it was okay. The water is up to our necks as we reach the otter, which turns out to be nothing more than a broken tree branch. We begin to doggy paddle back to shore, but she doesn’t want us to go. She loves hosting for all creatures,to show off the beauty of her dwelling. “Don’t go!!” she yells, but we’re too busy focusing on keeping our head above the water to hear her. She slowly stands up, taller then we would ever have expected and bends down to pick us up. She doesn’t know her own strength though, and stars to suffocate us with her hug, filling our lungs with salt water. She drags up back to back toward the open sea but we don’t want to go. We want to go to the shore where our mom is waiting for us, where we are safe. We kick and punch her, pleading for her to let us go. When she looks down on us she sees our discomfort, and how she’s the cause of it. She washes up back on the shore and collapses, ashamed that she scared us and apologizes. “Don’t worry we’ll come back” we forgive her, and with that she drifts back out to sea.