Salt

My brother and I found the edge of the world.

The wind was blowing hot that day and sand flecks were getting stuck on my lips. I pushed my sunglasses close to my face because the sun was glaring, and I felt a sensation that told me my cheeks were beginning to burn. I looked over at my brother and saw that his shoulders were red and sweat was dripping out of his hairline. The white fluffy beach was tough to walk through, so we moved down to the water line and let our feet track in the waves. I stepped on seashells and felt them crack beneath the arch of my feet; I was scared they would cut through my skin.

My mind was trying to take in the atmosphere around me. The round searing orange and white sun, the crispy blue sky, the salty taste, it was too much at once. The farther we walked along the beach the less people were around. The wind began to blow so hard against us we had to lean into it to keep walking forward. The water was not rolling. The waves came up into very triangular, crashing waves onto the beach. Each torrent of water that pushed itself onto the shore looked like a glass wall, and then it shattered across the grainy flecks of sand with a roar that filled the whole coastline.

We came upon a sign that commanded us to walk no further. I was tired and a little bit scared. We sat down in the sand, right next to the sign that said stop. We were on the very tip of the beach and the shoreline, no matter how hard it tried, could reach no further. The waves came from the left side of the sky and the right side of the sky, colliding right in front of us, they knocked each other down. The edges of the sea came right up and underneath our toes. On the other side of the sign we saw wild horses galloping hard across the sand. Their hooves pounded so hard that the sound almost drowned out the growling of the waves.

I asked my brother “Where are we?” He laughed and said he didn’t really know. I laughed too, and then I began to cry. I told my brother I was sorry about how he almost lost his first son. I told him I was sorry about the pain I knew he would have to carry for the rest of his life. He was quiet for a minute and then very quietly he said “Wouldn’t it be funny if I lassoed one of those wild horses and rode it down the beach with a white oxford shirt, unbuttoned?” He knew that would make me laugh. I turned my eyes back to the water and let the wind dry out my face. I saw muddy clouds in the distance; they were on the way to give Florida its four o’clock rain shower. My brother stood up. Quietly, we walked back to the car, the warm thick air pressed into us and the hot wind was to our backs.