THE LEXICON OF SALTWATER • by Paul Shaw Smith
I used to live in this town. Alone, in a house just over the dunes. Today is the day, and I have made my annual pilgrimage back to the beach. I lie back and close my eyes. My body on… Continue Reading
I used to live in this town. Alone, in a house just over the dunes. Today is the day, and I have made my annual pilgrimage back to the beach. I lie back and close my eyes. My body on… Continue Reading
The sand felt warm, the way it usually was on Saturday afternoons in Seaside Heights; face down on the beach under a hot July sun that burned my back and shoulders while Jenny was getting cheese fries and Cokes from… Continue Reading
I rented the same beach house as the one we vacationed at fourteen years ago. That was the last summer for the five of us, the one before the children began disengaging from Tyler and I. The one of our… Continue Reading
When my son was small we went on a glorious beach holiday. The weather was perfect, the sands golden and the water a shimmering blue. Everything was just the right temperature. Things were so good we bought a kite on… Continue Reading
Bill died early Saturday morning. He wanted chicken tortilla soup for lunch. His fever was gone and his throat was just a little scratchy. We were advised home quarantine since his COVID symptoms were mild. He tested positive and I… Continue Reading
Mary is woken by her two little boys. They are already fighting in their bedroom. She can hear objects crashing, bodies tumbling, chaos coming. *** When Julia wakes up, she takes the sheets and the thin summer blankets to shake… Continue Reading
When Buddy asked me to spend an August afternoon at a nude beach, I laughed. One of the things I love about him is how comfortable he is with my blindness. Most people avoid referring to it, as if I… Continue Reading
The sun is stuck. The golden coronal flares tickle the orange clouds that hover over the horizon, but it refuses to climb any higher. The colors stretching across the sky are a painting in soft pastels, and the perfect wave… Continue Reading
They did not ask her, they told her. Be ready tomorrow, light clothing; layers, they said. Bel wasn’t sure they even told her where they were going. Bobby came in, looked at her and backed out. “Mum,” she heard him… Continue Reading
I watched her as much as she pretended not to watch me. My little sister. Wasn’t the youngest the baby? Wasn’t she supposed to be subject to our parents’ worries? Their touches of melancholy? I remember when she would beg… Continue Reading