By Joseph Young
“I can see the water rising,” she said. The wavelets stroked the dock.
“That’s just the tide, Maggie. You already know that.”
She set her cold coffee down and went outside. The grass at the edge of the bay went white, like earthworms struggling to stay landside in the mud.
She took off her shoes and socks, stepped in. Might as well, she told herself. It’s coming.
The water was warm; a tiny red crab skittered across her foot.
“Mark?” she called, up toward the house. “Hey there, love?”
But he had retreated to the sunroom, now to read the news.
A beautifully-precise word picture. Well done!
A nice combination of narrative, dialogue and action, all mixed into some vivid imagery. Very good story!
like a poem!!
Thanks, everyone!