There was an echoing pulse of cicadas that nested gently in the pine trees. In the evening, a golden shine of light seemed to luminate the surroundings. Before the sunset, everything seemed to be still, as if anticipating the natural wonder that would soon approach. By the beach, wetsuits were pulled on, surfboards grabbed from racks and a look of excitement plastered on faces. In the air, was the smell of a hot days end which resembles sunscreen, cooked fish, sand and dry seaweed. And as the sun kept retreating, the tide kept approaching, knocking down sandcastles, interrupting romantic picnics and stealing stray flip flops.
“But as the sunset advanced, it did not matter the language what mattered, was the language of the wave, of the beach and of the evening.”
Every person turned their eyes to the water. Surfboards in hands, warm evening air; the ocean was waiting for someone to enter, to experience the ride of the wave and the joy it would bring.
At least five different languages were audible, French, German, English, Dutch intermingling to the ear. But as the sunset advanced, it did not matter the language what mattered, was the language of the wave, of the beach and of the evening. Out of breath, feet started running towards the water, feeling the cold rush of the tide and the harsh push of the waves.
By the time the sun sets, the water is waist deep. The clash of color has filled the sky and is reflected in the water. The water goes to neck level and rises as waves fly by.
The sun is making its descent into the horizon. The waves are beautiful and perfectly crash into the shore. Standing on one is harder than usual but as it comes closer wet feet grip to the board riding up and down, a few seconds that are calmer than what is about to come.
Suddenly a rush of cold water encapsulates. Feet flying into the air, board comes crashing down, salt is all that can be tasted, another wave crashes on top pushing arms and legs deeper down. Meter below the surface and still falling, lungs burn and feel like a small fire has been lit; then peace as the fall begins to slow, crashing to the bottom. A flash of bright light has encased.
This is my imitation piece from The Great Gatsby. I wanted to describe a beautiful day at the beach with a dark ending. I kept it somewhat mysterious and overall had a lot of fun with this piece. I like it a lot and there is nothing I would change about it.