The woman had tied her hair into a curious snake shape, to the right of her large head and had caught the bus to this beach because today she had noticed, but not for her the first time, that it was sunny. The sun was truly out. How she liked saying this to herself trying out the words in front of a small mirror and then when people weren’t looking, even on the bus, just miming the words just in case, that when she got there, there would be someone to talk to once more.
She arranged her mother’s small orange towel into a square on the sand and then purposefully sat on it gazing at the sea, watching all the boats. She had nothing to read still of course and they had told her that she must avoid music for it was too pianful and would remain so for some time.
To her left, a father began digging a castle with his children near the water’s edge and the sea began to chase channels as the waves surrounded each sand palace, only to give up and then find another.
The woman stood up and walked over to the group but kept her eyes on the sea as if waiting for someone or some signal. She felt that one day, in another day, they would be her family and he was her man and they were all out for this late afternoon, before she would return to their place and cook, just like her mother had done when she was well and like her grandmother had done always until that final afteroon.
The longer she stood by the sand castle of course, the more it became hers. She now felt she had built it too and opened her mouth to speak and make a suggestion about the angle of the moat. She had small pebbles in one pocket and these she could make into windows so that eveyone inside could watch the sea, just like her.
But her voice was silent. they had not yet helped her with her voice and it remained at the bottom of her throat, waiting for the world to change a little more and for her words to re-enter this place again, like polished pebbles.
