Sophie Stevens

A call from the ocean

Marcus looked out towards the ocean, the water stretching from one side of the earth to the other and he felt an indescribable emptiness sink into his chest. The grey and lonely sea cried a million tears, drawing the weak and hopeless to its depths. Marcus sometimes felt he could become one of its victims, like he could drown out there, tangled amongst choking seaweed. When he had been younger he used to race down to the shore, letting his arms catch in the wind. He would feel the shells crunch beneath his toes and look down as he let them scratch sharply into him. He never seemed to care of the pain of a thousand shells causing blood to drip from his skin. He would sit on the edge of the sand where the vast ocean lapped against him and let the salt water sting him like bees in his eyes. How lonely he felt, there all alone and into the night he would sit, he would wait, wait, and wait. Sometimes the ocean would speak to him, howling and panting it would scream in his direction, but often it was just the voice of a lonely fisherman who had spent countless hours without catching a fish.