The Red Dock

She had spent the morning on the island- a tiny island boasting no more than a tree in the middle of an outcropping of rock and a sandy beach. She had found six sand-dollars, three hermit crabs, and one round blue piece of sea-glass. She waded across the shoreline, the incoming tide creeping slowly. She sat in the sun and watched the gulls float above her.

After some time she stood, stretching her arms above her head. She walked back to her little boat, pulled the mooring rope out from under the rock which had held it in place, and pushed out off the beach.

Now she was rowing her skiff back across the harbor, the salt air mist cool against her sun-warmed skin. She was moving back towards the red dock she had left from, the red dock jutting out from the red rocks. The float swayed gently in the waves. Seaweed clung to the edge of the waterline.

Her love was there waiting for her to return, for her to show him the treasures she found. They would spread them out and experience each piece individually: marvel at the sand-dollars, name the crabs, and whisper that this could be the last piece of blue glass she ever found. They would stay for a few more hours, lounging on the porch in the old rockers, but as the sun set pink and magnificent over the water, they would leave this place. They’d walk out holding hands and carrying memories of the time spent.