I stare toward the horizon, willing his ship to return. Every day for three years, I’ve stood watch while the quiet beach surrounding me morphed into a bustling market, capitalism encroaching closer and closer to the crashing waves.
A hand grips my shoulder, spinning me from the sea.
“Move it,” the patrolman says. “No loitering. You gotta be buyin’ or sellin,’ lady. You know the rules.”
I hold out a tightly-clenched fist, and as my fingers spread, revealing a small scotch bonnet resting atop my palm, I meet his gaze, defiance ablaze in my eyes.
“That’ll be $2.50, sir.”
**By the Seashore was written for YeahWrite‘s January 31 Spontaneous Writing Challenge. The prompt: In 100 words or fewer, tell a story retelling a tongue twister. Join us on Discord for more writing challenges like this!