We run, fleet of foot, over the sand, laughing as we relish the joy of running and the smell of the sea in our nostrils.
“The cove is up ahead!” I say, climbing over the rocks smoothed by mother sea and years, noticing – not once, not twice – the green limpets encrusted on the contoured edges. They make good eating, juicy and filled with sea water.
Mama often collects the limpets. She savors them slowly, one by one. I wonder why.
We reach the cove, just when the sun is beginning its downward journey. “Look! Look!” I tell my best friend, of my special find. Shu stands beside me, panting. “Shu, look!”
“Oh!” Shu gasps. “This is so amazing.”
Spiral shells, in all shapes and sizes, as far as the eye can see. We comb the cove, picking the best-looking shells. I lift a fist-sized shell to my cheek, feeling its cool surface against my skin. This one is destined for the remembrance tree.
The tree will listen to my story.
~*~
That is so long ago.
Where do I go now?
Who am I?
