We’re scared of waves slinking up the shore, with each salty breath gasping and spitting foam, and we can’t see into the churning gray water when something touches our leg, wraps around and yanks at us, so we run scream, scream, screaming, sure we’re going to die as our knees jump above the surface searching for bright sand, and we won’t believe it was just a strand of seaweed or fish or piece of plastic because it was slick and scary, a giant squid or sea monster or shark, and nobody hears our fears over the world crashing behind us.
Melanie Maggard is a Seattle-based flash fiction writer published in Cotton Xenomorph, The Dribble Drabble Review, X-R-A-Y Magazine, Welter, Five Minutes, and others. Find Melanie at melaniemaggard.com and on Twitter and Instagram @writermmaggard.