The dividepublished: 2009-07-03
The three teenage girls toss their heads left and right as they lay in the sun, on towels in the sand. Aware, yet unaware. Of life to come, of time to pass. Too fast, this they will soon discover as they age and wonder why they did not realize it then, now, as I look at them. The bodies they hate, their own, in perfect state. Hip bones protrude under stringy bikinis. Their expectations about to coincide with those of the boys behind them playing soccer. Shoulders bent from the impact of growth, muscles developing beneath tight and pale skin.
A wild, unwelcoming ocean thrashes towards them, spitting seaweed unto the shore.
Further down, two boys confront that sea with surfboards. They throw themselves into the surf of life that challenges them, shouts at them, rages and roars. But they aren’t afraid. Not yet.
All this lies in front of me, my past. Behind me, their future plays in a peaceful, man-made cove. A quiet bay, where young children splash around as shriek. Where middleaged women and men quietly accept the thrashes of time, forcefully kept at a safe distance by a dam of stones.
The three girls suddenly sit up and watch the boys play soccer while playing with long, tassled hair. Luring them into the future.