Pebble memories

I remember being down by the beach till late.

Tossing wet pebbles at the pink buoys, charging into the late day’s dark blue water, and splashing wildly to ignore the cold. The summer sun hanging in the sky for a few extra hours than otherwise. Whitewashed houses looked warm for a bit longer. The golden reflections on the seafront windows and the long shadows in the sand, dimpled from all the sprinting and jumping over ropes that held the small fishing boats from floating off to sea.

Endless days.

Endless energy (that kids always have).

There I was, wrapped up in a towel too big, knees banging together. Sand stuck to my feet and sand patches on my legs from where I skimmed the sand like a pebble. Salt crystal forming on my faint body hairs, a blocked ear. Begging, with my shivering lips, for the late sun to warm me up.

Tossing pebbles again, I remember this all.

Pebbles bouncing with golden ripples on the dark blue water towards another late summer sun whilst kids skim across the sand around me.