Rather than avoiding posting for another week, I decided to cut corners and post something that I wrote a few years back for a Creative Writing class. Please don’t yell at me, I’ve spent all of my words and energy on final papers and this is the best you’re gonna get for a while. Also, I’m perfectly willing for someone to take me back to the island of Vis. Taking applications…NOW.
I rested on my back with only the thin beach towel separating me from the smooth, rounded pebbles beneath. The sun poked its way through my closed eyelids, causing a kaleidoscope of colors to flit across my mind. Every once in a while a slight breeze would come along and gently blow on my exposed skin.
Minutes passed and I finally mustered up the energy to migrate to the Adriatic Sea. My toes welcomed the cool grip of the water and soon my feet were engulfed by the wandering waves of the water. My sweltering skin sought the refreshing embrace of the sea, so I dove into the beautifully blue liquid beneath. The familiar salt captured my senses and for a slight moment I felt as if I were one of the fish that made those waters their home, who darted past sunburnt legs and pruned toes.
The sunlight immediately warmed my face as I came up for air, reminding me of my true place in the world. Floating easily on my back, I opened my eyes to the never-ending blue sea above me. It stretched for miles with no trace of even a single cloud to interrupt its perfection. From the distance I could hear the faint Croatian melodies playing from the café next to the beach. It was a type of music that didn’t need the understanding of lyrics to be entrancing. It was mesmerizing, like a lullaby before bed.
Occasionally I would catch snippets of laughter in the streets and I’d imagine young kids with melting ice cream cones in their hands, kicking a ball back and forth. Their feet would be bare and encrusted with dirt, their noses dark and their smiles bright. In a few hours their mothers would yell from the doorsteps and they’d saunter to their separate dinners with promises to meet again the next day.
A new sound of splashes on top of the water was the new holder of my attention. I shifted my gaze to the young girl at the far end of the beach, skipping rocks. Each chosen rock danced across the surface of the bright blue sea until its journey was cut short by the too powerful hands from below that plucked it from mid-air.
I never quite felt the effects of putting an ear to a seashell, but on that beach with the small waves cooling the scorched pebbles and the sun warming me from the inside out, I felt as if I was inside that seashell
I know it’s not much, but hopefully it makes you think happy (warm) thoughts! Have a wonderful rest of your week and I’ll see ya next time.