Enter. Occupy the rock. Leave the safety of not writing and tell us the story of finding yourself in a new and unknown place.
My story? I once walked this shoreline. I was eight years old, twelve, sixteen, twenty-five, sixty. I danced in and out of the cold Northern water. I gathered pebbles that gleamed like jewels and watched their magic fade. I tugged at the top of my swimsuit and hoped none of the wild boys were watching. I watched my youngest chase his brother and sister with a dried-out fish. I took off my sandals, stood in the damp sand and wept for my dead mother and father.
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