Sea Glass Fiction Contest
Grades 9-12
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First Place: Rowan Goldrich | Grade 10, Bay Shore
Will would always tell me about his dad’s purple bottle. I used to always walk halfway home with him, until we had to turn in opposite directions. My house was tall and had a big front porch with a swing, to the West. His was small and brick, to the East. I went to his house once, when we were 9. Mama was working late and Dad was on a business trip, so I was supposed to stay there for dinner. We played for about two hours as his mom cooked. Until his dad got home.
Will stood up, tugging on my arm, “Let’s go.”
"Why?” I asked, stumbling behind him.
“Let’s. Go.” His blue eyes cutting into me.
We snuck out through his window and didn’t take our coats, even though it was cold out. “Will?” I asked, fearfully. “What’s happening?”
“Papa gets angry when he drinks from the purple bottle.” He shivered.
“It’s getting dark out…” I turned around, looking at his dad, head all tipped up with the bottle at his lips, his mom was wide-eyed in the corner.
“Come on.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. We walked silently towards the beach. There, he taught me how to skip rocks until the sun was down and the street lights came on. We walked back to where the road split East and West. Will’s eyes were tearful and sad. We just stood there, looking at each other. Suddenly, Will’s arms were wrapped around my torso and mind were around his. “I’m scared, Jamie.”
I was silent. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to help him.
“Do you wanna come over to my house tomorrow?” I tentatively asked.
Will sniffled. “Yes please.” He let go and started walking back to his house.
Then there was 8th grade. We were 14, and his mom had left a year earlier. Will came to school wearing a long sleeve shirt once. It was a hot June day, at least 85 degrees. We sat on the ground in the school yard. “Will?”
“Yeah,” he replied, picking at little blades of grass.
“Are you…” I thought for a second. “Are you okay?”
His hands stilled. “What?”
“I mean, it’s so hot and you’re wearing that.” I motioned to his sleeves.
Will looked up, his brown hair had gotten so long that it covered most of his eyes. But I could tell that he was crying. I reached my arm around his shaking shoulders and just held him for a minute.
After school that day, we walked to the beach again. We sat on the bench and he rolled up his left sleeve. There was a big, ugly, bruise of a handprint on his skinny arm. Will broke down and told me everything that had happened since his mom had left. His dad drank from the purple bottle more and more, he came home late all the time, disheveled and smelling like sweat and alcohol.
“He’s angry, Jamie, he’s so angry.” Will sobbed into my shirt.
I rubbed Will’s back, “I know… I know…” But I didn’t know. I had no clue and I wanted to help him, to take all of his problems and drown them in the water in front of us.
“Can I come over tomorrow?”
“Whenever you need.”
Will started staying over at my house almost every night. Mom and Dad didn’t know when he stayed, I’d just sneak him in after they fell asleep or while they were watching T.V. If he wasn’t there when his dad was home, the anger that was directed at him would fizzle out and never get him.
By 10th grade, Will was starting to look a lot like his father. His piercing blue eyes had softened to a sad gray, his freckled face was now pale and tired, there were huge bags under his eyes, and he started to steal his dad’s purple bottle. The day I figured it out was January 8th of that year. We were sitting at the beach again, all bundled up with the cold sea air biting our noses and cheeks. He was wearing one of my coats, his dad never bought him one. I leaned over to pass him a rock to skip and noticed the smell. The same smell that I knew from helping Will drag his dad inside after a long night. He knew that I knew. I didn’t say anything, just held him, and rubbed his back until the tears stopped flowing.
I knew there was nothing I could ever do to truly help him. I couldn’t stop his dad, I couldn’t stop him from stealing the bottle, and I couldn’t tell anybody what I knew. I could help him for a few hours, until he inevitably went home. Then all my help was immediately gone and irrelevant.
July 17th, right before our senior year, was the last time I saw Will. We were back at the beach watching the sunset. He turned to me and looked me dead in the eyes, as he pulled the purple bottle out of his pocket.
“I wanna let go,” he told me.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m letting go, Jamie.” Will said, nonchalantly. “Of Mom, of him. Everything.” He stood up and reached his hand out to me and I followed him down to the edge of the water. He turned to me again, eyes wet. In that moment, I knew I would never see him again. He tentatively placed the bottle on the ground and stared at it, then at me. Will took a deep breath and started stomping on the bottle, tears cascading down his face. He let out a guttural scream, pain emanating from his voice.
Then it was gone, the sea had come and taken the shards of the purple bottle away. It was going to move it throughout it’s body, rounding out its edges until it was safe for another person to handle.
Will stood up, tugging on my arm, “Let’s go.”
"Why?” I asked, stumbling behind him.
“Let’s. Go.” His blue eyes cutting into me.
We snuck out through his window and didn’t take our coats, even though it was cold out. “Will?” I asked, fearfully. “What’s happening?”
“Papa gets angry when he drinks from the purple bottle.” He shivered.
“It’s getting dark out…” I turned around, looking at his dad, head all tipped up with the bottle at his lips, his mom was wide-eyed in the corner.
“Come on.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me away. We walked silently towards the beach. There, he taught me how to skip rocks until the sun was down and the street lights came on. We walked back to where the road split East and West. Will’s eyes were tearful and sad. We just stood there, looking at each other. Suddenly, Will’s arms were wrapped around my torso and mind were around his. “I’m scared, Jamie.”
I was silent. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to help him.
“Do you wanna come over to my house tomorrow?” I tentatively asked.
Will sniffled. “Yes please.” He let go and started walking back to his house.
Then there was 8th grade. We were 14, and his mom had left a year earlier. Will came to school wearing a long sleeve shirt once. It was a hot June day, at least 85 degrees. We sat on the ground in the school yard. “Will?”
“Yeah,” he replied, picking at little blades of grass.
“Are you…” I thought for a second. “Are you okay?”
His hands stilled. “What?”
“I mean, it’s so hot and you’re wearing that.” I motioned to his sleeves.
Will looked up, his brown hair had gotten so long that it covered most of his eyes. But I could tell that he was crying. I reached my arm around his shaking shoulders and just held him for a minute.
After school that day, we walked to the beach again. We sat on the bench and he rolled up his left sleeve. There was a big, ugly, bruise of a handprint on his skinny arm. Will broke down and told me everything that had happened since his mom had left. His dad drank from the purple bottle more and more, he came home late all the time, disheveled and smelling like sweat and alcohol.
“He’s angry, Jamie, he’s so angry.” Will sobbed into my shirt.
I rubbed Will’s back, “I know… I know…” But I didn’t know. I had no clue and I wanted to help him, to take all of his problems and drown them in the water in front of us.
“Can I come over tomorrow?”
“Whenever you need.”
Will started staying over at my house almost every night. Mom and Dad didn’t know when he stayed, I’d just sneak him in after they fell asleep or while they were watching T.V. If he wasn’t there when his dad was home, the anger that was directed at him would fizzle out and never get him.
By 10th grade, Will was starting to look a lot like his father. His piercing blue eyes had softened to a sad gray, his freckled face was now pale and tired, there were huge bags under his eyes, and he started to steal his dad’s purple bottle. The day I figured it out was January 8th of that year. We were sitting at the beach again, all bundled up with the cold sea air biting our noses and cheeks. He was wearing one of my coats, his dad never bought him one. I leaned over to pass him a rock to skip and noticed the smell. The same smell that I knew from helping Will drag his dad inside after a long night. He knew that I knew. I didn’t say anything, just held him, and rubbed his back until the tears stopped flowing.
I knew there was nothing I could ever do to truly help him. I couldn’t stop his dad, I couldn’t stop him from stealing the bottle, and I couldn’t tell anybody what I knew. I could help him for a few hours, until he inevitably went home. Then all my help was immediately gone and irrelevant.
July 17th, right before our senior year, was the last time I saw Will. We were back at the beach watching the sunset. He turned to me and looked me dead in the eyes, as he pulled the purple bottle out of his pocket.
“I wanna let go,” he told me.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m letting go, Jamie.” Will said, nonchalantly. “Of Mom, of him. Everything.” He stood up and reached his hand out to me and I followed him down to the edge of the water. He turned to me again, eyes wet. In that moment, I knew I would never see him again. He tentatively placed the bottle on the ground and stared at it, then at me. Will took a deep breath and started stomping on the bottle, tears cascading down his face. He let out a guttural scream, pain emanating from his voice.
Then it was gone, the sea had come and taken the shards of the purple bottle away. It was going to move it throughout it’s body, rounding out its edges until it was safe for another person to handle.
Second Place: Atticus Muuss | Grade 10, Bay Shore
Chance
2022
He proceeded to extract the five of hearts from the middle of the deck.
“How did you do that, Aiden?” questioned his brother Sam.
“Chance,” said Aiden with a shrug. “That’s all.”
“Come on, don’t be so cringy,” said Sam. “That’s what the book is literally called.”
“Sure, but–”
“Quiet, boys, we’re here.”
The boys’ mother had alerted them to their arrival at the front of the grand Princess cruise ship that would serve as their residence for the next two weeks of the summer. These days among the Pacific Ocean waters to Hawaii was just what they needed.
By the time the family had checked into their respective rooms–separating the adults from the children–Aiden was quick to resurface his favorite magic book: Chance by Hugo Trefousse. He needed to reexamine the fabled five of hearts card trick, just to make sure he had done it right.
“You’re not seriously doing it again, are you?” Sam asked, slightly exasperated.
Embarrassed, Aiden slowly closed the book.
---
The man delighted in all of it. The sights, the sounds, the smells. He was at one with the sea.
“Here’s your complimentary glass of champagne, Mr. Trefousse,” said a nearby voice.
A rusted, pink glass with an imprint of a dove lay before Mr. Trefousse with the aforementioned champagne. The man wrinkled his eyebrows.
“Perhaps a champagne glass is more customary to serve champagne in, miss?” he asked.
“Oh, not on this ship, sir,” said the waitress. “All of our Princess crew ships are using pink champagne glasses; it’s rarer.”
“I see…”
Rather skeptical of the glass before him, Mr. Trefousse sighed, but nevertheless, popped the champagne, and poured himself a glass.
“Oh, miss?” he suddenly asked.
“Yes, sir?”
“Want to see this corkscrew disappear?”
“But sir, that isn’t p–”
Smiling, Mr. Trefousse was quick to throw the corkscrew into the air, and to the amazement of his audience member, it never came back to the ground. It had vanished.
---
“Will you quit it with the magic for ONE SECOND?!”
On top of the cruise deck, Sam was enraged at Aiden’s magical persistence. The latter would not stop demonstrating the blessed five of hearts trick.
“Why are you so bothered?” Aiden finally retorted. “It’s just magic.”
“Yeah, well, it’s lame. Maybe try something else, like standing still.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, now you’re deaf? I said that maybe you should–”
“No, no, what’s that?”
Aiden pointed to something towards the horizon. He and Sam tried to determine what it was, but it was then that they each received a text from their father to join them for dinner.
---
Applause echoed throughout the theater.
“Thank you, everyone,” said Hugo Trefousse. “And now for my next trick, I will demonstrate a favorite of mine: the five of hearts trick.”
Some audience members clapped in anticipation of what would happen next. By the time the trick was over, Hugo had received a standing ovation. He bowed, with the five of hearts still palmed within his right hand. Then, a faint shriek from overhead.
---
“I get the whole ‘rare color’ deal, but pink? Really?”
Sam was complaining, as per usual, and Aiden was sitting silently with his magic book in his lap, and his deck of cards on the table. He was waiting for his first course.
Yet his eyes were always fixed on the window. The boy’s eyes glued themselves to the mysterious figure that was approaching nearer and nearer to their ship. Within five minutes, however, he had realized it.
“It’s another ship.”
His mom looked down at him with concern. “What is?”
“There. That figure. It’s another ship.”
Slowly but surely, the figure was recognizably another cruise ship. The passengers on board started to whisper and point. Fear was growing.
---
The magician ran up the stairs towards the deck, as did his former crowd, to find the source of the scream. It was from a woman who noticed something strange: another ship coming that way.
“What is going on here?” exclaimed Trefousse.
“The captain apparently can’t move the ship away,” said a bystander.
“What? That’s his whole job.”
“Something’s gone wrong.”
---
“It’s getting closer!” Aiden shrieked.
The other ship was only a quarter of a mile away. Soon it was an eighth of a mile. Then a sixteenth.
“What are we going to do?” Sam cried.
It wasn’t too long after that when the two noses of the ships passed each other, and the nose on the other ship rammed into the dining area, where the family stood in horror. Glass and silverware all plummeted into the bright blue water.
---
Amidst the chaos, Aiden squinted towards the other ship’s deck. He noticed a rather familiar face, the face of his favorite magician: Hugo Trefousse, with a pink glass of champagne in his hand. He didn’t think it could ever happen, but alas, it did. What were the chances?
“Mr. Trefousse!” screamed Aiden, gleefully, magic book in hand, completely forgetting about the collision. “I’m your biggest fan!”
Mr. Trefousse noticed the young boy. “Young man!” he said. “Is that my magic book?”
“Yes!”
“What a fan you must be! Here–take this!”
Mr. Trefousse attempted to throw his now empty pink glass to the young boy, but it did not reach him, and fell into the water.
“It fell!” Aiden said, sadly.
“Did it?” said the magician. Then, he turned around and left the scene.
---
2062
Billy noticed the shiny object within the light blue waves at the shore. He walked slowly over to the thing. It was bright pink, smooth, and seemed to resemble half of a glass. Smiling, he waddled to his father.
“Dad, look what I found!” he exclaimed.
The man examined it closely, saw the printed dove, and smiled. He took off his sunglasses slowly.
“That’s a beaut,” he said. “I can’t believe it.”
Then, Aiden gazed back towards his daughter, who watched amazed as her father extracted the five of hearts from the deck.
2022
He proceeded to extract the five of hearts from the middle of the deck.
“How did you do that, Aiden?” questioned his brother Sam.
“Chance,” said Aiden with a shrug. “That’s all.”
“Come on, don’t be so cringy,” said Sam. “That’s what the book is literally called.”
“Sure, but–”
“Quiet, boys, we’re here.”
The boys’ mother had alerted them to their arrival at the front of the grand Princess cruise ship that would serve as their residence for the next two weeks of the summer. These days among the Pacific Ocean waters to Hawaii was just what they needed.
By the time the family had checked into their respective rooms–separating the adults from the children–Aiden was quick to resurface his favorite magic book: Chance by Hugo Trefousse. He needed to reexamine the fabled five of hearts card trick, just to make sure he had done it right.
“You’re not seriously doing it again, are you?” Sam asked, slightly exasperated.
Embarrassed, Aiden slowly closed the book.
---
The man delighted in all of it. The sights, the sounds, the smells. He was at one with the sea.
“Here’s your complimentary glass of champagne, Mr. Trefousse,” said a nearby voice.
A rusted, pink glass with an imprint of a dove lay before Mr. Trefousse with the aforementioned champagne. The man wrinkled his eyebrows.
“Perhaps a champagne glass is more customary to serve champagne in, miss?” he asked.
“Oh, not on this ship, sir,” said the waitress. “All of our Princess crew ships are using pink champagne glasses; it’s rarer.”
“I see…”
Rather skeptical of the glass before him, Mr. Trefousse sighed, but nevertheless, popped the champagne, and poured himself a glass.
“Oh, miss?” he suddenly asked.
“Yes, sir?”
“Want to see this corkscrew disappear?”
“But sir, that isn’t p–”
Smiling, Mr. Trefousse was quick to throw the corkscrew into the air, and to the amazement of his audience member, it never came back to the ground. It had vanished.
---
“Will you quit it with the magic for ONE SECOND?!”
On top of the cruise deck, Sam was enraged at Aiden’s magical persistence. The latter would not stop demonstrating the blessed five of hearts trick.
“Why are you so bothered?” Aiden finally retorted. “It’s just magic.”
“Yeah, well, it’s lame. Maybe try something else, like standing still.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, now you’re deaf? I said that maybe you should–”
“No, no, what’s that?”
Aiden pointed to something towards the horizon. He and Sam tried to determine what it was, but it was then that they each received a text from their father to join them for dinner.
---
Applause echoed throughout the theater.
“Thank you, everyone,” said Hugo Trefousse. “And now for my next trick, I will demonstrate a favorite of mine: the five of hearts trick.”
Some audience members clapped in anticipation of what would happen next. By the time the trick was over, Hugo had received a standing ovation. He bowed, with the five of hearts still palmed within his right hand. Then, a faint shriek from overhead.
---
“I get the whole ‘rare color’ deal, but pink? Really?”
Sam was complaining, as per usual, and Aiden was sitting silently with his magic book in his lap, and his deck of cards on the table. He was waiting for his first course.
Yet his eyes were always fixed on the window. The boy’s eyes glued themselves to the mysterious figure that was approaching nearer and nearer to their ship. Within five minutes, however, he had realized it.
“It’s another ship.”
His mom looked down at him with concern. “What is?”
“There. That figure. It’s another ship.”
Slowly but surely, the figure was recognizably another cruise ship. The passengers on board started to whisper and point. Fear was growing.
---
The magician ran up the stairs towards the deck, as did his former crowd, to find the source of the scream. It was from a woman who noticed something strange: another ship coming that way.
“What is going on here?” exclaimed Trefousse.
“The captain apparently can’t move the ship away,” said a bystander.
“What? That’s his whole job.”
“Something’s gone wrong.”
---
“It’s getting closer!” Aiden shrieked.
The other ship was only a quarter of a mile away. Soon it was an eighth of a mile. Then a sixteenth.
“What are we going to do?” Sam cried.
It wasn’t too long after that when the two noses of the ships passed each other, and the nose on the other ship rammed into the dining area, where the family stood in horror. Glass and silverware all plummeted into the bright blue water.
---
Amidst the chaos, Aiden squinted towards the other ship’s deck. He noticed a rather familiar face, the face of his favorite magician: Hugo Trefousse, with a pink glass of champagne in his hand. He didn’t think it could ever happen, but alas, it did. What were the chances?
“Mr. Trefousse!” screamed Aiden, gleefully, magic book in hand, completely forgetting about the collision. “I’m your biggest fan!”
Mr. Trefousse noticed the young boy. “Young man!” he said. “Is that my magic book?”
“Yes!”
“What a fan you must be! Here–take this!”
Mr. Trefousse attempted to throw his now empty pink glass to the young boy, but it did not reach him, and fell into the water.
“It fell!” Aiden said, sadly.
“Did it?” said the magician. Then, he turned around and left the scene.
---
2062
Billy noticed the shiny object within the light blue waves at the shore. He walked slowly over to the thing. It was bright pink, smooth, and seemed to resemble half of a glass. Smiling, he waddled to his father.
“Dad, look what I found!” he exclaimed.
The man examined it closely, saw the printed dove, and smiled. He took off his sunglasses slowly.
“That’s a beaut,” he said. “I can’t believe it.”
Then, Aiden gazed back towards his daughter, who watched amazed as her father extracted the five of hearts from the deck.
Third Place: Emily Ruggiere | Grade 10, Brightwater
I’ve heard people call that empty chip bag Trash. Hello, Trash! I thought. What a nice name. Trash… Some beverages have all the luck. I’ve spent 15 years in this food court cooler! Or maybe 15 minutes. I haven’t quite figured out how time works yet. One of the beach people opened my cooler and now I can see everything! This food court has sandy floors and flies. Small humans tug on the arms of bigger humans and ask for greasy pretzels that spin in glace cases. Things called Seagulls get chased out by people wearing red sweaters with white crosses. Seagulls… Another lovely name. I’ve also heard them as Beach Chicken, and someone had used Rats With Wings after one stole their fries. I know what I am… I’ve been called The Drinks. How important sounding? I’m really hoping for a proper name though. Everyone in this food court is in such a hurry to get to The Water. I bet there I’ll find a name as good as Beach Chicken!
My cooler began to sway. I smacked down flat against the blue plastic bottom and the other drinks clanked and jiggled together. We must be off to meet The Water! All of the sudden the cooler lit up. The faint hum of ceiling fans stopped, and the ceiling became bright blue. Then as quickly as it appeared, the light was blocked out. I felt a sharp, painful jab. Another drink had fallen on me, and I knew just who it was: Jeff. I had named it myself. He was the most impolite drink in the entire cooler! His cap scratched down my neck. I could hear my insides slashing around our blue plastic tub. Jeff had broke me. Jeff you horrid drink! You’re a disgrace to this
cooler and all other Jeffs! I didn’t even realized that the cooler had stopped to be nestled down in the sand. Jeff was then lifted from my dying glass self… not that he even cared! In the distance I heard a cycle of crashing shattering sound. Ceiling fans? Was The Water just a high class food court? There were voices above me…
Babe, look you broke it.
It’s just one drink…
A sandy hand with sausage like fingers came upon me. My top half was flicked onto the sand. The other half did the same and shattered. I was a pile of purple shards, not even part of The Drinks anymore. It was wet there and sand stuck to me. Seaweed slapped itself over a shard. I found The Water. It wasn’t all I hoped it would be. It kept licking me with it’s salty gray foam. It kept yelling too. CHROOSH! CHROOCH! Over and over again! Who was it even calling? Who’s name is Chroosh? I bet this Chroosh broke up with Water. Now he’s is trying to apologize. Reminds me of Jeff… who… I was starting to miss. Even in my silent cooler I wasn’t so alone. Sure Jeff never moved over. Sure he didn’t help me find a name. Sure he ended up almost killing me, but you know what; he was still Jeff! Oh, Jeff… I’m sorry I called you a disgrace.
It’s like I was nothing. Like I was… Trash! All hope returned when I saw Trash the chip bag blow past in the breeze. It was really comforting to see an old friend. Beverages can’t speak but I was hoping Trash would notice my state of peril and come over. But Trash didn’t stop when he passed, and he didn’t stop once he started to rapidly approach Water! Without hesitation, Trash tumbled straight into the heartbroken foams. Trash! No! My mind echoed. Water! Just because Chrooch dumped you doesn’t give you the right to swallow pure, innocent beverages like Trash. I bet this is why Chrooch dumped Water in the first place! It called out again. CHROOCH! All my sympathy for Jeff melted into grief for Trash.
Time passed and a little person who kept giggling playfully waddled over. At first I was floored at how this small and insignificant little human just interrupted my grieving process. Then I realized this could be it! This small giggling human was about to name me! It bend down and pointed one stubby finger at me. This was the moment! It’s mouth opened, I saw two teeth, the tongue, yes, yes!
“No-no-no! That’s sharp!”
The tiny thing was swept away by a much taller person. I was knocked into Water. Foam charged at me and I got a blast of cold that chilled every edge of me. It didn’t even realize I was only one shard, or that Water had selfishly engulfed me to cope with the grieving process of loosing Chroosh. I just couldn’t stop thinking. That’s sharp. That’s Sharp! Sharp! My name was Sharp! Joy swept through my broken body. I sank to the pebbly floor where I met shells and small fish. None who had a name quite like mine. Soon the murky insides of Water got dark and every pair of legs kicked their way onto the sand. Many joyful brights and darks were spent
there. Sometimes Water would stretch out as far as it could, (seriously… time to move on from Chrooch, buddy) and it was easy to get swept into the pull. I avoided it for a long while, but eventually I was dragged out. On the shore, light from that familiar blue ceiling dried me. I felt stale, salty, and old. A sad feeling came to me. Sharp was the name given to me in my glorious youth. Back when I wasn’t the flimsy small shard of the base of a purple bottle I am now. I need a new name. As if someone had heard my thinking, a tall human bent down and ran their fingers over my silky eagles. Their lips opened.
Sea Glass.
My mind glistened. It was the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard... Sea Glass.
My cooler began to sway. I smacked down flat against the blue plastic bottom and the other drinks clanked and jiggled together. We must be off to meet The Water! All of the sudden the cooler lit up. The faint hum of ceiling fans stopped, and the ceiling became bright blue. Then as quickly as it appeared, the light was blocked out. I felt a sharp, painful jab. Another drink had fallen on me, and I knew just who it was: Jeff. I had named it myself. He was the most impolite drink in the entire cooler! His cap scratched down my neck. I could hear my insides slashing around our blue plastic tub. Jeff had broke me. Jeff you horrid drink! You’re a disgrace to this
cooler and all other Jeffs! I didn’t even realized that the cooler had stopped to be nestled down in the sand. Jeff was then lifted from my dying glass self… not that he even cared! In the distance I heard a cycle of crashing shattering sound. Ceiling fans? Was The Water just a high class food court? There were voices above me…
Babe, look you broke it.
It’s just one drink…
A sandy hand with sausage like fingers came upon me. My top half was flicked onto the sand. The other half did the same and shattered. I was a pile of purple shards, not even part of The Drinks anymore. It was wet there and sand stuck to me. Seaweed slapped itself over a shard. I found The Water. It wasn’t all I hoped it would be. It kept licking me with it’s salty gray foam. It kept yelling too. CHROOSH! CHROOCH! Over and over again! Who was it even calling? Who’s name is Chroosh? I bet this Chroosh broke up with Water. Now he’s is trying to apologize. Reminds me of Jeff… who… I was starting to miss. Even in my silent cooler I wasn’t so alone. Sure Jeff never moved over. Sure he didn’t help me find a name. Sure he ended up almost killing me, but you know what; he was still Jeff! Oh, Jeff… I’m sorry I called you a disgrace.
It’s like I was nothing. Like I was… Trash! All hope returned when I saw Trash the chip bag blow past in the breeze. It was really comforting to see an old friend. Beverages can’t speak but I was hoping Trash would notice my state of peril and come over. But Trash didn’t stop when he passed, and he didn’t stop once he started to rapidly approach Water! Without hesitation, Trash tumbled straight into the heartbroken foams. Trash! No! My mind echoed. Water! Just because Chrooch dumped you doesn’t give you the right to swallow pure, innocent beverages like Trash. I bet this is why Chrooch dumped Water in the first place! It called out again. CHROOCH! All my sympathy for Jeff melted into grief for Trash.
Time passed and a little person who kept giggling playfully waddled over. At first I was floored at how this small and insignificant little human just interrupted my grieving process. Then I realized this could be it! This small giggling human was about to name me! It bend down and pointed one stubby finger at me. This was the moment! It’s mouth opened, I saw two teeth, the tongue, yes, yes!
“No-no-no! That’s sharp!”
The tiny thing was swept away by a much taller person. I was knocked into Water. Foam charged at me and I got a blast of cold that chilled every edge of me. It didn’t even realize I was only one shard, or that Water had selfishly engulfed me to cope with the grieving process of loosing Chroosh. I just couldn’t stop thinking. That’s sharp. That’s Sharp! Sharp! My name was Sharp! Joy swept through my broken body. I sank to the pebbly floor where I met shells and small fish. None who had a name quite like mine. Soon the murky insides of Water got dark and every pair of legs kicked their way onto the sand. Many joyful brights and darks were spent
there. Sometimes Water would stretch out as far as it could, (seriously… time to move on from Chrooch, buddy) and it was easy to get swept into the pull. I avoided it for a long while, but eventually I was dragged out. On the shore, light from that familiar blue ceiling dried me. I felt stale, salty, and old. A sad feeling came to me. Sharp was the name given to me in my glorious youth. Back when I wasn’t the flimsy small shard of the base of a purple bottle I am now. I need a new name. As if someone had heard my thinking, a tall human bent down and ran their fingers over my silky eagles. Their lips opened.
Sea Glass.
My mind glistened. It was the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard... Sea Glass.
