I walk slowly from the lighthouse to the end of the beach; I stare out at the ocean as the waves crash around my feet. Where should I go now? I breathe in deep to take in the salty air. Stepping forward, the height of the ocean begins to grow, first above my ankles, then my knees, then my waist. I stretch out my arms and begin to swim before moving into a backstroke. Soon I am floating in the water as the sun gleams on my face. I think about where I’ve been and where I want to be. Home, I thought, but where exactly is home?
Journalistic Writing
Likes
506 Views
Share: