Seaside This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

February 18, 2013
The seaside was littered with glass bottles, bird bones, and shells. Seaside is accurate; the sea did not touch any portion of land that the humans had claimed. Land didn’t meet water: they barely touched, each pulling away in disgust at the other. Sea disgusted at the inhumanity of the industrial, uniform appearance of the land; land viewing ocean as barbaric.

If you could stand on a line, viewing both in one breath, on your right you’d notice the absence of beaches, earth somehow dissolving instantly and reluctantly into green foam. On your left would be streets, shades of silver and grey, reluctantly reaching up toward blue sky. And the sky watching everything, even you, as you stand, both feet on the divide, looking up, now, yes, even the sky is disgusted. It doesn’t bother to mask itself with clouds, not proud, but impatient, and looking over the sea and the sky and you, in the middle, watching.

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