'Shifting Sands' by Laura Cooney

   

           We are on the shore and I look at my daughter as she talks to imaginary mermaid friends. She has such intensity, like they’re actually here. I’ve been informed that they’re about to take her swimming.

            The other one has just started making castles by herself and is carefully arranging small shells around a tower. She wants to do it on her own and goes alone to collect the shells.

            I am momentarily alone and unnecessary. It’s passing, but still. In defiance I bury my toes into the sands of time and breathe in, as if that could stop them