Horizon Watching

There’s no better place to be than at the beach, precisely because it offers a clear view of the distance, and everything in between. I watch anxious child-eyes follow a fishing boat that seems to vanish into the waves, only to rise again. The child sinks into the sand; his coconut-scented mother turns slowly in the sun.
The father spots the Chinese container ship carrying the package he’s been waiting on for three months. The lifeguard scans the beach, not the sea, his eyes fixed on a woman with curves.
The child wades into the surf and steps on something sharp. With no compass, he finds his mother again and offers her blood and a seashell.