Write a story based on the song title: "Beside The Sea"
Posted in Fiction on Oct 26, 2022
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✍️ 35 stories
“Lela” by Tula Singer
As soon as Lelo fell asleep we went out to the balcony for lunch. Lela made mariquitas and black beans, and I cut an avocado for the salad, then dressed it with olive oil and vinegar. We each served ourselves and took the plates outside to eat. Neither one of us spoke while we devoured our food. Once I had finished I gazed at the sea for a few minutes; the water was blue and green and old. When I was younger, we would go down to the coast and swim for hours while Lela sat on the rocks and watched. Enrique was always...
“Sea Salt and Elves” by Waverley Stark
She laughed too loud, she swam too fast, her eyes were too shiny, her fingers too long. Her skin was greenish, her hair was the darkest violet, she howled to the sea at night, and she licked the salt spray eagerly off her lips. The villagers called her strange. She was different, frightening, a thing to be avoided. “Not from this world,” breathed the old nurse Gertrude, to anyone who woul...
“Beach Town” by Amy St. Pierre
Sarah grew up in a tiny coastal beach town. Every summer it was the same – tourists would flock to town over Memorial Day weekend, nearly doubling the town’s population, and there they’d invade the town’s beaches and shops and restaurants until Labor Day weekend, when they went back to where they came from. For those three summer months, the town was transformed. There were as many out of state license plates as there were in state license plates. Businesses and resta...
“I Love You, Sara” by Arabella McClendon
I have always been a light sleeper, so when she slipped out of our bed and crept through the house, I was dredged up from the depths of sleep. Not as much by her movement as by her absence. Never leave me, Bea. I find her on the lawn, lying in the soggy two-am grass. I wonder if she knows I’m there, halfway between the inside and the outside. I move along the patio and catch that look in her eyes. ...
“Water Wears Rock” by Joshua G. J. Insole
1The seagulls are circling overhead, crying. The ocean’s waves are lapping up against the sand, whispering. In the distance stand the resolute shadows of mountains, shimmering.A man is motionless before the darkened sand where the seawater has licked the shore, holding his hands behind his back. The man carries with him an air of well-earned wisdom, but if he were to walk, we’d see that his movements are slow and pained.
“By the Sea” by Mushroom (flammulina Velutipes)
I sit by the sea, watching the waves crash down on the shore. The sickening smell of rotting fish and dried salt envelops me every time I step outside, so I try to stay in the house as much as I can. The sun burns down on the shore, and seabirds scurry around on it in dizzying patterns. Everything about this situation I’m in is so wrong
“The Sea” by Melanie S.
Beside the sea, I stand alone, listening to the laughter of the bodies that stand beyond the faded lights. I walked away an hour ago, and so far I see no indication of worry that I am missing. I am at peace beside the sea, tasting the remnants of champagne on my tongue, the champagne that I swapped with my sparkling cider when no one was looking. He tol...
“Beside the Sea” by John K Adams
“Look at that!”The surf line shone brilliant white against the distant blue. But Margaret pointed elsewhere. She tugged at Charles’ sleeve. “No, look, Charlie.”Charles shifted his gaze beyond his wife’s gnarly index finger and saw the sign, ‘Beside the Sea Cafe’.“That’s it. That’s where we’re going.”The door jingled as they entered the small, clean dining room lit by shimmering sand reflecting through the picture window. Old nets draped around the perimeter of the ceiling. They’d been catching dust for y...
“Beside The Sea” by Arthur Tiberio
Sometimes his eyes forgot the land. Not always, no, and perhaps not even often, but there would be days when hours of gazing at the sea stirred within him an undeniable loneliness, and his pupils shrank to suggestions of darkness in a sea of washed grey iris and his feet twitched as if wondering what this solid weight beneath them could possibly be. On occasion, a memory.These days it was one of hands: strong, muscled hands that must have once been his... he blinked, rheumy eyes rejecting the paralysis of being, looked down at his ...
“Beside the Sea (Turtle Whispers)” by Adriana K. Maxwell
When he was a young man, a year and 97 days ago, he lived beside the sea. They all did, his mother, his father, and him, up in a tired house that smelled of salt and old nets and home. Every dark morning, he would tramp down, check her hull, test the ropes, and shove off. Then hours throwing the net and hauling it up, looking to see what the sea would let him take. Back to harbor, checking and mending the nets, sorting the fish, and flinging away the seaweed. Finally to market, haggling for the best price, ...
“The Killjoy” by Deborah Mercer
Esther was nine. She was, as her mother said, picky. Not so much about food (though nobody had yet tempted her to try a walnut or a mushroom) but about clothes (her top always had to be a lighter colour than her skirt or trousers - it was just right that way!) and about where things were. Her toy hippo had to be to the left of her Welsh doll with the tall hat, and her storybooks and what she called her “really” books, her word for non-fiction, kept on entirely different shelves. “It’s not even ...
“TRITON LAUGHED” by Sivaram Govindaraj
WRITING CONTEST: #153PROMPT: BESIDE THE SEATRITON LAUGHEDI have lived beside the sea since birth. I have played in the sands of the beach collecting seashells. With a spade and bucket I have built sand castles using wet sand. I have merely stood with bare feet in seawater enjoying the feel of drifting sand as waves recede. And of course I have gone swimming in the sea. I have seen the sea in its various manifestations: In a placid mood as waves...
“Clean Cool Water” by Nemo Artist
Steve believed that if he made the wrong choice everyone would laugh at him. It was about 4:45 am and he was standing chest deep in the little man-made lake near his house. Soon the trail would come alive with the movement of early morning runners. They always seemed to have their shit together, with content looks on their faces. Their tan, fit bodies moving only to taunt the onlookers.
“Summer Vacation” by Lauren Tobin
Janey stood at the window, arms crossed over her chest. She scowled and glared, hoping to pierce the veil of the fog with her eyes. Summer vacation, right, she thought. It’s like fifty degrees out there. She felt like a pathetic fairy tale princess trapped in her castle, the big luxury hotel being the castle and the shitty weather being her existential angst. Her mom acted all chill, like this weather was a good thing, “an escape from the oppressive heat of the central valley,” she’d said. Weren’t you supposed to have oppressive heat ...
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