Her toes skipped and danced in circles upon the sand, making small imprints which became letters. The ocean, a raging, foaming, sea monster, engulfed the letters in a blue pool, seizing their breath in one wave. She walked, sinking in the cool depths of the sand, every step. The sun caressed her hair, her face, sending shadows dancing upon her freckled cheeks. The wind tugged at her hair, a name tugged at her heart.


She lay down her towel, embroidered by sand, upon the miniature rocks beneath her. The sun flaunted its brightness, making her squint to see the cloud-covered sky. She soon was drowned by sleep and her eye-lashes fluttered in the light summer breeze.

“Whoa! Whoa! Calm down Mike, it’s only a game!”

“Ray, chill out dude!”

Her dreams depicted a boys’ soccer game from behind her eyelids.

“Over here, Ray!”

She observed the stands around her, the painted faces of fans, the beckoning call of the vuvuzuelas. She stood on the bleachers, in a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. The sun weakened her eyes but she could just make out a boy standing in front of the net. He had a sun yellow soccer jersey on and he mimicked the sun in every way; so much so, that his bright smile must have made even the sun, envious. His brown hair adorned his tan face and a single strand tickled his eyes. He brushed a hand to remove the hair and suddenly all she wanted to do was hold that hand, to trace the creases and let his warmth permeate through her cold, paper white skin. To embrace her heart.

Her feet scampered away from the rusted bleachers, away from the cold shadows and cold faces, and towards the stairs. She took them two at a time, looking down at her sandals once in a while to make sure they hadn’t been worn down, out of existence.
Suddenly, her shoes squealed as they skidded over a damp liquid on the floor. Her hand anxiously reached for the railing, but grasped only air. She could feel herself falling, flailing, flying. Just as her head plunged to meet the looming stairs, a warm hand pressed upon her and caught her from plummeting down. Her eyes recognized the color of daffodils and she looked up into a pair of tender hazel eyes. His hand gently clasped her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Ray.”

Suddenly, the buzzer screeched and the crowds came, like stampeding antelope. He was obscured in her vision, as numerous people clouded her eyes She clenched his hand tightly, never wanting to let go and he ran towards the air, the blue sky. But the crowd followed them, like a black cloud in a rainstorm, and ripped them apart.

“Whoa, whoa! Watch out! Watch out!”

Suddenly, an object, covered in sand, came into contact with her head. A soccer ball. Her eyes flickered open and her head seared with a sudden pain.

“Look, I’m so sorry. The wind caught the ball and I couldn’t stop it and I didn’t see you and…”
She quivered beneath her towel. She looked up at the sun, painting colors upon the sky and noticed the moon, peeking around, with its shy bald head. Her eyes fell upon a brown haired boy with a yellow soccer jersey. His smile seemed to lighten up the sky and his eyes, were that of a light hazel.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. But hey, what’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m Ray,” he said, and that was the beginning.