This piece is part of my “Rejected Stories” collection. Click here to learn more.
Blue. Deep, bottomless, all-consuming blue—the colour of her eyes. The ocean called her into its cold-warm embrace.
Abbey shaded her eyes from the scalding rays. She glanced around, eyes alert. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. Her heart galloped to an erratic rhythm.
Crap. A couple approached. Look busy.
She stared at the dirt, scanning the area with fascination—pretending.
“Hey there, are you okay?”
Abbey looked up with reluctance but wore her brightest smile. “Yeah, fine.”
The woman looked around. “Your parents close?”
Abbey fought the urge to roll her eyes. She was eleven, for God’s sake, almost in high school. Not that she would be going to high school. But still.
Avoiding the woman’s concerned gaze, she nodded. “In the toilet.”
The woman looked between her partner and Abbey. “It’s quite deserted here, so be careful, okay?”
“I come here all the time.” Abbey picked up a trumpet-shaped seashell, the colour of milk that had gone off. “Tonnes of these good ones.”
“Oh…”
A few uncertain steps onward. But damn it—they lingered.
Eyes back on the ground, picking up more odd shapes—pretending.
Continue reading “Blue”