Photo courtesy of Sandra Crook
Sasha fingered through her collection of driftwood, shells and carbonate rocks. With sudden anger, she swept the treasures off the table with a swift arm. They cracked and shattered on the floor.
I watched from the open doorway as she collapsed onto her knees and wept.
Since she was a girl, she saw magic in the world. It was hiding on the cusp of the Pacific.
Last night she had gone out to watch turtles hatch on the beach.
Last night she was pulled off the sand and into a stranger’s truck.
I could tell that the magic was gone.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers- Check out more takes on the photo prompt with the link below!