Thomas Aidan Hiscock – Mussel Cove, Falmouth, Maine – 2025

***

In the waning days of May, as the world burned with hidden fire –

Anna sat on the beach, digging her feet in the sand.

Waves caressed her ankles as plovers scurried by, dancing in the surf.

Anna gazed at the water, at the white caps and the clump of rocks spilling into open ocean around the bend. 

You didn’t go around the bend…

Nobody went around the bend…

Those rocks were the stain of a once-proud jetty, reaching into the blue beyond.

Stoic, the monolith endured endless abuse from the crashing waves – a mask of salt and silence. 

Anna shuddered and stood up…

Shaking sand from her legs, she gathered her book; her sunglasses; and her towel…

Walking up the beach, Anna noticed the most peculiar thing: 

beyond the beach rose and whispering seagrass – grew an orchid. 

Climbing out of the sand, the flower blushed – a beautiful sight that didn’t belong. 

Stunned, she wrapped a hand around its stem…

From the moment she touched the orchid, Anna could sense an opiate sinkhole of sorrow…

Tears spilled from her eyes, wetting the ground below.

Her grip tightened and she snapped the fucking thing in half!

Anna looked up, drawn to the phantom limb of the jetty and the sapphire cove.

No seabirds flew overhead, for the wind raged above the rocks, screaming at the shore.

The young woman was caught between instinct and intoxication, romancing the centipede slither of evil.

Weeping, Anna dropped the crumpled flower…

Without turning back, the young woman set off toward home, stars the only witness to her woe – and guardian of her wonder…

You didn’t go around the bend…  

Nobody went around the bend.