Together

"The sea is not at all calm," he said as he walked by me, hands in his pockets and feet trudging sand.

"So is the wind," I breathed in as much as I could, letting the air fill my pollution-accustomed lungs.

"Are you not cold?" he eyed my less than thick, frilly dress, and equally bare feet.

"Maybe." I was not paying attention to my body temperature, to be honest.

"What will your father say if you don't come home tonight?" he couldn't keep the nervousness in his voice. I almost laughed at that not-so-manly question.

"I wouldn't have a way to know, given that I wouldn't be there. Right?" I glimpsed a sparkling on the sand not far from us. I hurried to it.

I picked it up and realized it was just some shard of a broken mirror. I turned to throw it out to the sea. As soon as the glinting piece got lost into the waves, he had come nearer. We were standing side by side, looking at the thrashing waves. There could be a storm, or maybe the wind was just having a bad day. I wondered if he was thinking about where the glass shard landed, too.

"Maybe we should just get you back home," he said after a while. He had his head hung; he always did that when he disliked what he was saying.

"No. Come, run."

I began to run, and soon he was after me. He caught up with me and held my hand. Then we ran, together. Just like what we would always do from then on.


Photo by: Aimée