Content warning: death.
She sells seashells by the sea shore.
The sky is still dark and the beach is quiet. Only a faint light and fading stars hint at a fast-approaching dawn. The lone echo in the silence is the soothing breath of the ocean. Its waves hit the shore, bringing with them this morning’s offering of treasures. Now, scattered across the wet sand are the little presents of the sea. A plethora of different shells rest on the shore line: small and pearly, round and bumpy, glossy and patterned.
The girl kneels down, dampening the hem of her skirt. Holding an oil lamp out in front of her, its warm glow reflecting in the waves, she picks up the shells, carefully placing each one in her bucket. She must work quickly, or the ever-looming high tide will soon sweep them back into the sea and out of her sight.
This silent work is her secret. Every morning before sunrise, the girl leaves her small house by the seaside for the cool ocean breeze and the salty scent of sea air. People often wonder how the girl gathers such beautiful shells to sell each day, when there are none of such elegance to be found later, once the sun has risen in the sky, once the beach has filled with people. They will never know the true beauty of the beach before sunrise. The girl’s call to the waves is her craft, her art, her trade.
As she gathers the remaining shells, something catches her eye in the sea foam. Glittering in the light of the girl’s lamp is a sparkling silver locket. But as she reaches for it, the high tide snatches it away. Without thinking, the girl runs out into the water, her feet sinking into the sand. She swims fast toward it, ignoring the rough waves fighting to keep her back. She plunges farther down into the water, the sting of salt in her eyes.
Then suddenly, she loses sight of the locket as the waves throw her against the rocks. Her feeble attempts to escape the tide’s grasp fail as violent waves throw her back against another boulder and push her down beneath the water. The girl struggles to reach the surface but the vicious waves push her back down. She is dizzy. Losing her sight, her hearing, and her ability to care, she ceases all attempts to fight back, giving in to the selfish embrace of the ocean.
As the sun peaks over the horizon, its warm rays cast light upon the limp body on the shoreline. The girl lies lifeless in the sand. Her head is stained with blood and her breath has been sucked out of her.
She sells seashells no more.
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