A confusing memory for Parentheses
Miller left this delicate, fragile daughter of an English teacher
desperately searching for softer, whiter sand. Sand is only so soft,
it seems, and it can only get so white. She dropped down and sat
with her legs crossed, sitting right at the edge of the water, where
the warmish waves lapped at her bottom. The prackle-fish hiccuped
from a distance.
There was a smile in the sky that had
not been there earlier, and Parentheses smiled back. The smile
broadened, and soon the lips of the sky reached from horizon to
horizon. They opened ever so slightly and made the sound of a
Gulliper bird. Parentheses called back. The lips sang in harmony
with the call of the surf and the prackle-fish danced beneath the
waves. Parentheses stood up once again and brushed the wet sand from
her bottom.
With five great strides, Parentheses
strode to the beach-side altar. She felt the sand, once again hot
beneath her feet, and it seemed like a suction on her arches and on
her heels – her legs could barely pull her feet along for each
step. Reaching the beach-side altar, she removed the single pearl on
the fine gold chain that hung around her neck. This she placed on
the altar.
“Come down,” she seemed to say, to
the unknown god. “Come down and receive my offering.” All was
silence around Parentheses Miller, however. No conversation was
forthcoming. No words spoken to an unknown god. No instruction or
prophecy from the same. Parentheses stood before the altar with eyes
wide open, hands spread out to the heavens, feet sinking deeper and
deeper into the fine, powdery sand.
In a moment, in a heartbeat, the pearl
on the fine gold chain turned as black as night and was swallowed in
a tiny puff of smoke. Parentheses pulled her legs from the deep
white sand and returned to the water's edge, content to know that a
confusing memory could forever stay a confusing memory and that
softer, whiter sand could never be as cool and as perfect as the
water's edge. The prackle-fish hummed with glee at her return, and
Parentheses laid down to make sand-angels in the sun-dappled surf.
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