Never End

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She felt a prick in her right foot, under her toes. She had been feeling her way forward, but the bottom was covered in seaweed here, a sort of long, thick grass that swayed with the current. It was brown and nasty. Like dead flowers.

Now she was standing on a little sandbank. She balanced on one leg and examined her right foot: she could see it was bleeding, but only a little. It wasn't the first time this summer. Par for the course.

She suddenly found herself thinking about a cramped classroom smelling of musty clothes…and musty thoughts. Rain against the window pane. Questions on a sheet of paper and the scratching of pens, answers that would be forgotten as soon as the papers had been handed in. Now that was all over, though. She'd passed her final exams, big damn deal. And now a summer that would never end. Ne-e-ever end. She could hear the tune in her head.

The cut would be no more than a little scratch by tonight, and it wouldn't hurt at all; but she would still feel the heat on her skin, from the sun and the salt. From the shower. Before the evening got under way.

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