Making My Mark
I made a mark in the sand. The coarse wet grains pressed up against my skin and oozed through my toes. I carefully lifted up, heel first then one toe at a time. The shape was one of many, yet so very different. A deeper heel than the one to its right and a thicker arch than the one just ahead. From far away, it’d be lost among so many footprints. But I’d made my mark on this earth.
In the very next moment, the wave washed it away.
