By Yides Friedman
Sand shifting beneath me. Hot sun above me. Crash, crash, crash, the surf against the shore. I step forward, walk down home to the sea. I stop with the silty jewel water lapping at my knees. Ebb and flow. Hissing surrounds me as waves recede from sand that glistens in the sun. Eyes narrow. Wind whips my hair. A small furrow in the distance, washes toward me against the tide. Fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh, rolls the thing up and down. Heart pounds. Makes a beeline toward me. I fall to my knees. Say not a word. Water comes up to my chest but then recedes. I am left kneeling on the hard-packed sand. The being erupts from the water and pierces the sky, blocking the sun. But sun still gleams on bronze scales and green mane. Dark and light intermix on the jeweled-tinted body and face. Maw opens. Large jagged shark teeth. A roar that outpasses the roar of the sea. But it is the roar of the sea—just personified. The great mouth closes but for a crack, deep still eyes shine yellow-purple-white on mine. Wind rushes forth and my hair flairs in concert with the beings' large kelpy mane, thick dirty strands narrowing to weathered strings all around the roiling muscled face. I find my hand in the air. Start in surprise. The being smiles at me in its thoughts. Bow my head and rest my flat-palmed hand on the lowered bronze scale forehead. The name enters my mind. I say it, and the syllables fade from my mind. Beneath my fingers, I feel the ancient ethereal glow of golden warmth, crown of the depths of the sea. Power. Majesty. Wild and still. Peaceful and ferocious. But I marvel deeper. Strangely, it seems we are one and the same.
Yides Friedman — My name is Yides Friedman. I am Jewish, ADHD, and a giant nerd. I live in Brooklyn, and I plan to write my own fantasy and sci-fi stories after I graduate. This is my first publication.