She stands on the beach, the sand packed so firmly that it doesn’t even seem like she’s staring out at an ocean. Then again, nothing ever turned out like she expected.
Though she left no footprints in this hard-packed sand, she can clearly see the paths she could have taken, looking back—studying instead of going to the party, taking the job in New York rather than walking down the aisle before following him around the Midwest, from town to town that all managed to look and feel like the hometown she’d wanted to escape: bland, flat, stifling.
A wave rouses in the sea and she watches it approach, wanting to step forward to meet it halfway, but she holds her ground, makes it come to her, and though it’s a lukewarm splash that eventually laps at her toes, it feels like a baptism.
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