she sits in the solitude of the sandy beach the waves kiss her toes and scamper out of reach the seagull’s screams are suffocated by the scratching of salt water and sand by the surging sounds of the sea as it consumes the land soon she falls silent, stops motionless she sits and sighs in the smells of the sea suddenly, she is everything she is the squawking seagull and the swaying trees she is the blistering sun and the shining seas she is paradise and then they come they come carrying buckets and rakes umbrellas and stakes cookies and cakes whatever it is that Wal-Mart makes sun chars their china doll skin raw, red lines on fat white bodies scraps of cloth on big boobed barbies stupidity of blue-footed boobies little boys stop and gawk till mothers make them turn and walk their sisters try to come and play till they are roughly pulled away a picture is snapped from behind from the side but nobody dares to stop and say ‘hi’ suddenly, she is nothing she is the scenery, a dark silhouette on a postcard she is a souvenir, something to discard she is nothing more than a premeditated palm tree in paradise the sea churns viciously with coming weather like the familiar motions of her drunken father its foaming mouth spits at the shiny white faces but they are ignorant to its grumbling advances only the little girl and the lifeguard on the pedestal their dark skin shining in the sun know the secrets hidden underneath the breaking waves
AUTHOR BIO: Born and raised in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, Amy now spends half of her life at sea and the other half wherever the hell she pleases. An avid traveler and dangerous daydreamer, she is most at home when surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains or the great blue sea. Her debut novel, The Atheist’s Prayer, is a dark comedy about a fairy-worshiping suicide cult.