(Not really sure why I wrote this. I prefer poetry to short stories, but this slipped through. Any thoughts?)
She walks beneath the moon, slowly moving her bare feet through the sand. While she may not have any company, she feels anything but alone.
A gentle breeze blows her auburn hair, lifting it from her shoulders and exposing her neck to the chilly night. Water twirls around her toes before retreating into the ocean, again and again.
It's this same stretch of beach that she would walk with her mother every night. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that she realized how much that simple thing meant to her.
As the sounds of the water call out to her, a flash of light catches her eye. Lying in the moist sand, where the frothy saltwater had been seconds ago, was a photo.
Set in a small, metal frame no more than a square inch, was that face she'd see draped in moonlight every night.
Her mother's clear grey eyes shone out at her, daring her to test the laws of the world and raise her to life once again.
But as quickly as it had gone, the water returned, effectively shredding the hallucination, leaving nothing but a memory behind.
The town called her crazy. Her family called her lost. But the ocean, the ocean called her strong. It took her mother beneath it's glassy surface and never allowed her to come home.
Yet this young girl strolled through the water every night, alone but not lonely, trapped in thought, unafraid of the cruelty of the sea.