Sequel: Palm Trees ›
Seashells
they're like ***ing knives
July 18th, 2005
A week after that, our parents thought it would be a good idea to get together. On the beach, of course. (Where else?)
It was pretty awkward when we got there. Our parents just talked about boring shit that made no sense.
That left me, you, my brother, and your sister just sitting there. There was an extremely, and I mean extremely long silence.
"Hey, Austin!" someone shouted. We all turned and saw it was Jared, one of his friends.
"See you later," my brother muttered, and then he was gone.
That just left me, you, and Emily. It had been a few years since the time I built sandcastles with Emily. And now she was at that awkward stage where she's not really a little kid anymore, but I still couldn't talk to her as an equal (mainly because I was afraid a sexual joke would slip out or something).
Eventually, she decided to go and take a nap on the chair next to your mother. That just left me and you, sitting under our umbrella.
"This is boring," you said.
"Thanks for pointing that out."
"Let's do something," you suggested.
"Like?"
"Like... walk."
"I don't wanna," I groaned. It actually didn't seem like a bad idea, but I was just too lazy to get up.
"Come on." You then grabbed my hand and pulled me up with surprising force. I figured I was already up, so why not just go with it?
So we walked. We talked about something so boring and stupid that it isn't even worth writing in this letter. I remember occasionally, you'd pick up a seashell, look at it, then toss it back into the water. This continued until I felt a sharp pain in my left foot.
"Ow!" I screamed, reflexively jerking my foot back.
"What?" you said, immediately stopping in your tracks.
"There's something sharp on the ground." I lifted my sandy foot to inspect the bottom of it.
"Well, you're not bleeding," you said. "What was it, anyway?"
"I dunno."
You leaned over and moved around the sand, looking for what had stabbed me. When you found it, you held it out to me.
It was a piece of a broken seashell.
A week after that, our parents thought it would be a good idea to get together. On the beach, of course. (Where else?)
It was pretty awkward when we got there. Our parents just talked about boring shit that made no sense.
That left me, you, my brother, and your sister just sitting there. There was an extremely, and I mean extremely long silence.
"Hey, Austin!" someone shouted. We all turned and saw it was Jared, one of his friends.
"See you later," my brother muttered, and then he was gone.
That just left me, you, and Emily. It had been a few years since the time I built sandcastles with Emily. And now she was at that awkward stage where she's not really a little kid anymore, but I still couldn't talk to her as an equal (mainly because I was afraid a sexual joke would slip out or something).
Eventually, she decided to go and take a nap on the chair next to your mother. That just left me and you, sitting under our umbrella.
"This is boring," you said.
"Thanks for pointing that out."
"Let's do something," you suggested.
"Like?"
"Like... walk."
"I don't wanna," I groaned. It actually didn't seem like a bad idea, but I was just too lazy to get up.
"Come on." You then grabbed my hand and pulled me up with surprising force. I figured I was already up, so why not just go with it?
So we walked. We talked about something so boring and stupid that it isn't even worth writing in this letter. I remember occasionally, you'd pick up a seashell, look at it, then toss it back into the water. This continued until I felt a sharp pain in my left foot.
"Ow!" I screamed, reflexively jerking my foot back.
"What?" you said, immediately stopping in your tracks.
"There's something sharp on the ground." I lifted my sandy foot to inspect the bottom of it.
"Well, you're not bleeding," you said. "What was it, anyway?"
"I dunno."
You leaned over and moved around the sand, looking for what had stabbed me. When you found it, you held it out to me.
It was a piece of a broken seashell.