Hey, warriors! Welcome or welcome back to Words! Today I have some writing for you because I’m part of Maggie’s Summer of Stories contest! (Writers! Join me! And hey, artists! There’s Avenue of Art on Evin’s blog for you!) This week’s prompt was “a walk on the beach in 500 words or less.” I hope you enjoy!


Photo by Ricardo Esquivel on Pexels.com

Beaches are often associated with vacations, tropical journeys, and wild adventures, simple pleasures for the luxurious and worn alike. But I’ve always thought beaches were promises and as I slowly walk the shores of the Glass Beach, I’ve never felt more certain. This beach isn’t a beach of golden sand. It’s a beach of hope. I close my eyes as I sit down beside the waves and listen to the gentle tide tell me the story of what once was, just as it has a million times before.

Long ago, dear child, this place was rejected. This place was filth and junk, a cruel dump of what no longer could do what people wanted. Shattered glass covered the shores, still and unloved. We watched the pieces lay in despair and we began our work, seeing what could be. The glimmering pieces were full of color and could reflect the light, even if now they lay sharp and painful. Slowly, slowly, we began our work. Day by day, we washed away the rejection, smoothed the pointed edges, and kissed the shining colors. The sun bathed them in light and warmth, urging them to shine. And as we worked, they began to shine. The hated glass, the broken vessels, the dangerous pieces that once were slowly faded, and the glimmering rocks appeared. Now, here you sit, comforted by their shine, their color, awed by what once was rejected. Dear child, there are waves like us in your heart, waves like us around you. Gently they’ll scoop you up and hug you and kiss you and wash you clean. Gently they’ll stand by until you shine like these rocks. But first… you need to surrender. You need to lay broken, rejected, open, and faintly shining. Then the waves will come. 

As I open my eyes, the waves have again convinced me that the world is not what I often think it is: a huge warzone, every man for himself. No, the world is a broken heart, waiting for the blood to flow from piece to piece, bringing pieces together into something whole. And, as I stare at the waves and slip a small piece of once-rejected glass into my pocket, I make a choice.

Today I will allow the flow. Today I will be both a wave and the glass. Today I surrender. 


The final word count was 391 words, so pretty short, and I know this post isn’t long, but hey! Short posts save time. Do you like this snippet? Do you want more? Let me know in the comments!

16 thoughts on “Glass Beach: A Short Story – Summer of Stories 1

  1. AHHHHH THIS IS SO SO SO INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL 😭😭 and am obsessed with this line: “No, the world is a broken heart, waiting for the blood to flow from piece to piece”

    Liked by 1 person

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