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  • Grace Stevens

The Beach (prose)

She opened her eyes and saw

She was looking up at a blank, gray sky.

No clouds were in sight:

The sky had just seemed to shift to a drabber shade.


She was laying on something soft.

It was grainy yet cushiony.

She sat up and noticed

The sand coating her back,

Noticing the hole she imprinted in the ground.


She looked around, expecting to find

Anything or anyone.

The sand, though,

Stretched for what looked like forever,

Until the horizon became obscured by fog.


She stood up,

The sand hugging her bare feet,

And she began to walk.

There wasn’t anywhere to walk to,

But she did anyway.


The sound of waves crashing

Reached her left ear,

And she turned to see there was an ocean…

An ocean that extended into the infinite horizon.


Over the water, the sky wasn’t gray,

Rather a beautiful mix of orange and pink,

With an orange sun halfway through setting.

The view entranced her.


She made her way to the water.

Small waves engulfed her feet.

The water wasn’t hot or cold…

Almost having no temperature,

Almost as if it was not real.



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