The Tide (just for fun)

Cecilia stood at the edge of San Francisco's foamy ocean waves. Her soft, peach-colored lips parted slightly as she closed her eyes, drew forth her delicately freckled hands, and absorbed the cold, clean, salty air. California's burning orange sun grew heavy with sleeplessness and fell slowly from the sky, leaving broad, pink ribbons in its wake. Its lingering rays grasped her hair as it fluttered through the wind, kissing its metallic golden hues. Her thoughts ebbed and flowed with the motion of the water, and she felt whole. Here, everything was sacred. Life took hold of meaning. Existence was beautiful.

She tried to remember a time in the past during which everything had so much weight. Everything was so vague and lost lately. Nothing was substantial. Cecilia's glistening brown eyes snapped open to their own accord. She stared out at the sunset. Perched at the very edge of the water, she saw nothing but ocean from all angles of vision. There are too many tests, she thought. Indeed, there were too many ways in which the universe allowed itself to determine the meaning of her life. The water responded to the sun's glorious submission and buried her pudgy little toes deeper into the sand with each of its broadening waves.

Lately, the tests had become the only way to prove her life was worth living. Her ability, or lack thereof, to find the limits of a function's graph determined her place in the world. The extent of her love for Amelia determined her future happiness. Her level of commitment to whole foods and jogging determined the timeline of her existence. Her toes sank deeper and deeper into the sticky, viscous sand. The waves slowly climbed up her calves, engulfing her weightless linen pants. She closed her eyes once more and drew in a deeper breath. The denim fabric of her jacket wavered in the breeze and flew open with the insistent crash of each wave. Enraptured with her own thoughts, it seemed as though the universe, in all its intricate workings, had written out the course of life at conception, and once borne into it, one was not allowed an escape from the plan. The tests only revealed the workings of the universe.

"Fucking existence..." she muttered aloud, as seagulls sounded their harmonious mess call and took up the laborious task of dropping unsuspecting clams onto looming black cliffs and rocks from high above. She wondered if it was all worth it. She wondered how the universe could be so predictable; how so many people could live with the knowledge that their lives were already decided for them.

The waves buried her thighs momentarily as she remembered that she did not believe in destiny. Destiny is an archaic design of the Church, she reminded herself. It was an emboldening thought, but it lacked substance. Her only evidence of the world's workings was that she was perpetually being tested, and she had grown weary from it. She couldn't escape it. It was all too much. My only option is to wait it out and watch the tests, she had thought on so many occasions previous to that evening. Tonight, that was not sufficient. Tonight, watching the sun set over the unchanging ocean horizon, she had to know that life had more meaning.

Cecilia stared down at her legs. Her pants were floating in the water high above her calves as the sea embraced her and pulled her farther under. The water beckoned to her. It felt limitless and weightless against her skin. She felt so at home in the ocean's grasp. A clam shell drifted past her ankle, brushing gently against her with its mossy exterior. A thin smile graced her freckled face. There's just so much more beauty in simplicity. If there was a way to escape the inescapable workings of society, Cecilia would have jumped at the opportunity. This is the only way, she thought, as she watched waves pulse against her midsection and move up her spine as they continued in their brilliantly impending path. Flecks of water splashed against her cheeks. She closed her eyes once more. Here, at least, she was at home.