Glass Beach: A Short Story – Summer of Stories 1

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

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!

Storms: A Short Story in Poetry

Hey, everyone! Welcome or welcome back to Words! Today’s post is a more sad one. This is a short story told in four-line stanzas of poetry. It’s a story of pain, suffering, depression, anxiety, loneliness, and mental struggles and based on true stories. I hope you are able to learn from it or find healing from it.

Part 1

The color of the sky before a storm is green-gray,

Green like jealousy and sickness, 

Gray like gloom and danger coming closer.

That’s the color of the sky right now.

Annabelle stands in the living room,

Watching them scream loudly.

She opens her mouth to say something

But nothing will be heard.

The sky’s tears start to fall.

Raindrops drip, drip, drip.

A flood, for seemingly no reason

And out of control.

Anna runs to the bathroom.

Drip, drip, drip, drip, tears pour.

It refuses to stop, even though

She’s fighting to stuff them back in.

Part 2

Nearby, the clouds are angrier. 

Black, filled with hate.

Thunder cracks through the sky

And light pierces the dark.

Vanessa watches him rage.

It was just a pancake.

She wasn’t hungry.

Now she feels sick.

Again and again and again. 

Loud and exposing,

Painful, hot, and burning.

The storm finally stops.

Nessa watches as they walk in

And her own life starts to change

But the damage is done.

She cries because it’s too late.

Part 3

Another storm forms far away.

The ground shakes,

Rain pours down and down

Nothing looks the same.

Bethany looks at the flowers.

They used to make her smile

Now she just wants it all gone.

Something has to change.

There’s a moment of calm,

A moment of peace,

But then it spits again

Laughing and taunting.

Beth wonders what changed.

Life was never perfect, but 

Somehow it didn’t feel like this.

“I’m fine. Life is great.”

Part 4

Once storms raged here.

Now this place is just a mess

Things block the roads,

Making places hard to reach.

Haley stares at the floor.

It’s just cleaning. That’s all.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

Why is it so hard?

The clouds are here again

More angry, more threatening;

The sky is filled with pressure

Wind blows everything down.

She sighs, sliding to the floor.

Why is it everyone else?

Why can’t she take it all?

Or why can’t it just end?

Part 5

The storms meet.

They slam into each other,

And it’s more powerful,

But only for a moment.

Anna smiles, at least a second.

Nessa laughs, at least right now.

Beth has motivation, at least today.

Haley has hope for a future.

Maybe the storms disappear.

Maybe the storms stick around.

Maybe they get softer.

Maybe they get louder.

They dream of hugs,

Video calls and texts

Collabs and adventures

They can do this together.

Remember, it’s ok to need someone to help you stand. One day you’ll be able to shake off the dust you rose from, I’m certain. Do you relate to any of this? What’s your storm? If it ended, how did you make it stop? Let me know in the comments.