Beach Fantasy

I've never been fond of the feeling of sand. The way that the miniscule, insignificant rocks and pebbles sinky my feet whenever I visit any beach makes my skin crawl. It's as if there's no in between in temperature either. Freezing or scalding either way... I never dare to take off my sandals, no matter if it's warm or cool. You can never trust the sun to stay put, not with the clouds constantly swaying in and out of view. That's why I never visit the beach. I hate having sand stuck in my tops and my bottoms. I hate being buried while taking a nap. I hate getting rocks in the food I pack. I hate having sea salty water in my mouth that makes me choke. I hate the sun. I hate the tourists. I hate the lovey-dovey couples. I hate little brats running around and making sand castles that'll fall down anyway.

Yet I visit too often to count.
In all honesty, the only thing a beach has of value to me is its view.

It's a beautiful, fantastic view... At sunrise, dawn, dusk, night... and the sunset... I've never been more entranced by the sun than when it sets over a beach's shore. The smear of the colors of pink, orange, and purple surround a blinding yet comforting warm, yellow light. I love the color I'm greeted with as I shut my eyes to the sun. Knowing I can't keep them shut forever with the light echoing through my eyelids... I love resting to the sound of waving water. I love the sensation of a seashell pressed against my ear, whispering in a hushed voice of white noise. I love everything about the view... the atmosphere is to kill for.

The one nitpick's the people. The brats. The teen nuisances. The old geezers. The loud, never-shutting-up dogs. I wanna sew every mouth of every beach occupant shut. I wanna enjoy the place, but they keep kicking around the sand. They keep spoiling my food with rocks. They keep flirting across the room, eyeing me as if I should be jealous. They're all arrogant pieces of shit. They deserve nothing but being drowned in the same water that mindless, two brain cell having fish swish in.

I'll start with the children when their parents go and have barbecues in the cabins over the hill. I'll separate them as one group plays volleyball... one builds sandcastles... and the others play tag. I'll bury their heads into the sand. I'll pin their heads in the shallow shore. I'll hide their tiny, weakling bodies under the same sand that they skip across when it's hot.

I'll get to the adults next.

If I can clean up quick enough.