The Anger of the Sea

I climbed slowly but steadily up the sand dunes. My mother had warned me not to go but I ignored her. The ocean was calling to me. I heard the waves before they came into view. They were shrieking in anger as they landed with a crash on the shore. Even behind the dunes the gentle spray of the salt water sprinkled my cheeks. As I reached the very top, I saw the horrible scene unfold. Millions of seagulls were flying towards their homes but the unfortunate ones cried out as the dark waves engulfed them. The air was thick with the pungent smell of the water. Suddenly, a sharp gust of wind caused the quivering sand to come whipping at my bare legs. Surprised, I quickly ran down the dunes toward the screaming, foaming waves. The salt water on my cheeks streamed down and mingled with my tears before rolling into my mouth. I ignored the bitter taste. The sand was surprisingly cold and damp like glistening crystals as my feet touched them gingerly. The sea was calling for me. It was angry at the world, as was I. I walked into the huge thunderous waves.