I scratched your name in the sand with casual strokes of my big toe. Like I’ve done on every beach I’ve visited since we met. As I wiped cold sand off my feet and put on my socks, I saw people in the distance, walking my direction. I looked down at your name and wondered if, by some chance, they knew you.
I pished the letters away before they arrived. The tide was coming in, but not fast enough to erase you. I couldn’t be bothered waiting. Besides, you were already gone, regardless of ways I try to evoke you.
Gerard McKeown’s work has been featured in The Moth, 3:AM, and Litro, among others. In 2017 he was shortlisted for The Bridport Prize.
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Quietly sad.
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OMG, I couldn’t have said it better than George F.
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Gerard .. this is beautiful, and tantalisingly sad, because I wish to know the ‘story’ behind it …
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Pulled into the scene, the narrator immediately — wonderful!
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Love the simplicity. The best part is what isn’t there. Nicely constructed.
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Congrats on your Bridport 2017 shortlisting, Gerald, and this story. Is there a word missing in the last sentence…
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Finer work than those sands, Gerard. Found your story courtesy of Kent Gowran and Shared it to my Facebook Pages.
Thanks to the folks at The Drabble for the Great art that accompanied Gerard’s work!
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