Me & My Mom & The Wind - Ruby Ayala
Through thick terry cloth fibers, the warmth from below creates heat in my belly. To the right, another blanket is being wrestled onto miniature dunes made by erosion. She uses her creaky knees to get it all down despite cool gusts—the only respite from the brilliant sun. I bake comfortably and watch as ivory powder buries fabric, finding its way between folds. Not flat, not smooth, not like mine.
Many years later I return to the salt, the breeze, but not the sun. Ahead of me, little footprints stamp the glossy shore until they fade away because water heals everything but the ache in my knees. The undercurrent swallows their little bodies, and I watch.
It’s December and the waves are a fresh froth that folds onto itself in every direction. I chase a blanket that the wind steals from me—my knee buckles—and it escapes, quickly becoming nothing more than a flighty shape on the horizon.
Beneath my feet, the sand might as well be snow.
Ruby Ayala is a senior set to graduate in May 2025. She is a business major with a concentration in information systems, business analytics.