Flash Fiction #35 – Woman and Waves
It’s photo flash fiction time again, and well…this is going to be a super short one. I’m in the midst of graduation party planning that, for an introvert like me, is a special kind of hell. But, enough whining – on to the story.
Against her better judgment, Marnie had gone to the bonfire last night.
“Come to the beach with us,” Mark had said. “It’ll be fun. And besides, it’s been too long since I’ve hung out with my little sister.”
Goths didn’t belong on the beach in the dark, and they sure as hell shouldn’t be there once the sun came up. Yet, here she was. Facing the brutal rays of the rising sun while Mark and all his frat boy buddies lay passed out or sleeping–it was hard to tell which–near the dying embers of what had been a roaring blaze.
She’d tried to wake up Mark hours ago, but he’d groaned and rolled over and was practically facedown in the sand. She’d tried to flip him on to his back so she could get the keys from his pocket so she could just go home, but he’d swatted at her and curled up in a ball.
So, there she was–sand in her tights, a disconcerting lack of sunscreen, and her sweater smelling like Bud Light and puke thanks to Mark’s friend Alex who she had thought was cute. His level of attractiveness had plummeted when he’d leaned in for a kiss and barfed on her sleeve.
The longer she stood around with her heels sinking into the wet sand, the more pissed she got. The more pissed she got, the higher the waves swelled. It had been a long time since she’d been angry enough to affect the elements.
The breakers began crashing on the shore, roaring in the quiet dawn. Turning on her heel, she stalked toward the road, the churning water following in her wake.
“Try to sleep through that,” she muttered as she stepped between the prone bodies and climbed the sand dune.
That’s it for me, and I think Kris is the only other person with a story this week, so be sure to check hers out.