Tiny grains of sand surround her feet, footprints left in the wet sand mark where she has been. The sultry breeze blows through her hair as the water curls around her ankles. Tendrils of sea foam perch atop the wave, ready to run their watery chariot aground as they race towards the sand.
The wave builds, growing taller and taller as it gains width. Preparing for its dash to the shore, the wave begins moving forward. As it falls over itself, the foam leans dangerously over the edge and clutches the wave underneath so as not to fall. The wave crashes into her, breaking as it splashes all over her. Swirling around her legs, it circumvents this unexpected obstacle. As the wave reaches the shore, it loses momentum. Having arrived at the finish line, the wave’s job is done and the undertow takes over. Sliding its long fingers over ocean floor, its pulls on the water. The wave retreats into the ocean, and rides the tide back into the blue abyss.
miss wintringham 