By Brianna Wade
She walks the shores at dusk, trailing a net behind her. As it slides along the sand, it leaves a scar in the earth like her ancestors before her. The tide crashes, and she throws her net to see what the ocean had to offer to her. Bottle caps, a rusty nail, and old, torn nylons. No fish. She was starving for a sign of life from the sea. But it had been years since she had last seen a fish. Where had they gone? But that’s the way of extinction—it never arrives loudly. One day, it just stops returning.
This was a gut punch of today’s reality