I watch dad inspect the adder stone, approvingly placing it in my hand. It's smooth and solid, with a hole no bigger than a bead.
Only good things can come through this, he tells me, holding it up and spying into the eroded centre. Winking through it at me.
A parting memory before disappearing forever from the beach.
Mum restrains my distress in sandy embraces and I raise the stone, desperately squinting for him through glassy, salted eyes.
He's gone.
The words crash into me as I hurl the wretched thing out to sea. It quickly sinks. Fruitless and hollowed.
Only good things can come through this, he tells me, holding it up and spying into the eroded centre. Winking through it at me.
A parting memory before disappearing forever from the beach.
Mum restrains my distress in sandy embraces and I raise the stone, desperately squinting for him through glassy, salted eyes.
He's gone.
The words crash into me as I hurl the wretched thing out to sea. It quickly sinks. Fruitless and hollowed.
