It was summer.
The heat wore boots.
Crackling air burnt my lungs.
Driving to the beach took hours.
The sand flies suckled my bare skin.
Beyond the waves, a wreck lay half submerged.
The lives of those onboard had long been forgotten.
Nine year old me wondered what happened to the ship.
When I asked my father, he said he did not know.
Perhaps there was a storm and in the dark they were lost.
As we stared past the breakers, a woman walked out of the surf.
She said to my father, "Be careful of the rip" and then she turned away.