Between waves and the marram by Adam Power

The waves lap around my feet as I curl my toes into the sand. It's cold but soothing, relieving. I feel a mess of thoughts escape me, for what seems like hours, as I watch the symmetry of the water around my feet and the indentation they leave in the sand. There's something about these moments that I seem to value over anything else; feeling so much clarity, yet so detached from everything outside of my direct attention. Waves. Sand. I'm amazed at the sight of the movement of my toes, gripping the sand then releasing, like a lazy fist. It's as if I'm not inside my own body at all, but viewing it from the perspective of someone, or something, with no knowledge of how people function. I'm vaguely aware of the tide dragging me farther down the beach as I stand motionless in the wash. I haven't felt that drift since I was a child. It perplexed me then, but only startles me now. A gull calls out from above,drawing me out of my trance.

I remember why I came down here in the first place. The last of the evening sun looked beautiful over the ocean, dyeing the horizon an aggressive red. I felt the need to come see it, but she just sat there and smiled, the most genuine and sympathetic smile I've ever seen. With her bottle of wine clutched in two hands, she gave me that understanding look of hers :

"If you want to, go ahead; but I'm not getting up".

It felt slightly disheartening, but if our positions were reversed I can't say I'd have acted any differently. Besides, I know she'll be there when I return. I could tell how damned cold she was just by looking in her eyes, and that's not something she had ever been above complaining about before. She must have had as much flowing through her mind as I did, but we both understood they were things we couldn't discuss. Not yet.

Being alone, together. The thought seems both absurd and a little comforting. She needs to be up lying amongst the marram as much as I need to be here standing in the surf. That has to count for something, right?

I hear the wind rattling through the dunes as I stare out over the seemingly infinite waters. A sigh escapes my barely parted lips, born of a mind clouded with drink, nostalgia, thoughts. Only pushing into adulthood and already I feel weary of life. A lazy smirk graces my face, as I realise the dissonance of my thoughts. If something as simple as my feet in the sand can grip me so wholly, how can life seem so laborious? Just as the humour sinks in I hear her footsteps in the shallow waters behind me. Her arms wrap around my waist, her chin rests on my shoulder. My train of is lost as I sense her breath on my neck, her aroma in the air.

"You think too much", she says.

I can tell that she's smiling from the inflection in her voice.

"Yeah", I mutter, my mouth spreading into a smile of my own, "I think I do."