By Kira Rodriguez, Contributor
I felt it between my fingers as I collapsed to the floor. The ringing in my ears drowned out
the sound of horrific screams and exploding bombs. As a metallic taste grew sharp in my
mouth, I looked down to see the red sand beneath me. I stared at it, bewildered at what
just happened – an attack from above. My fellow troops and I were walking down
the sandy beach, the setting sun to our backs. The war was over. A truce was made. We
had successfully evacuated all but the few civilians who walked with us. Now, I lay on my
back, unable to sit up or call for help. I was allowed the soothing sand to cradle me as
I took my last few breaths, remembering my family and the friends I left behind. I ran my
fingers through the sand as I remembered my daughter, laughing as she ran through the
sand in her strawberry baby bikini. Her older brother was chasing her, when he finally caught up, he scooped her up into his arms. They laughed as they collapsed into the sand
beside me, their wrath turning towards me. I remembered the tall sand castles I built with
them, how we made flags out of popsicle wrappers and sticks. My wife and I would dig a
moat as my children ran up and down the beach looking for the prettiest shells and the
shiniest rocks. They always made great doorways and stepping stones. Before a picture
could be taken, little feet tore down the castle with infectious laughter. It was then that my wife encouraged my children to bury me deep in the sand. I remembered the beach parties I had with my friends. Beers and cocktails were passed around as we laughed the night away. The children rested inside, sound asleep from the busy day. I danced with my wife under the moonlight, the sand between our toes and the nearby fire crackling. The romance would soon be disrupted as my best friend, the man my kids called uncle and I called brother, called for a game of volleyball. I would always miss the ball, finding myself eating sand on more than one occasion. I would stand up and laugh, brushing off the sand that stuck to me like glue. Not this time. I wouldn’t be standing again. As the sun set on the beach, the waves crashing lightly onto the shore, I ran my hands through the sand once more before my last breath escaped me.
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