I dug my feet into the sand, letting the breaking waves wash over my feet again and again. The sea receded, leaving a fragment of ridged brown and white seashell a few feet away from me. It looked interesting, maybe I should shift from my entrenched position and pick it up to examine its beauties.
No, I didn't want to budge from my comfortable spot. I just wanted to stay there and watch the grey clouds on the horizon as they lightened from the pink of early dawn to the brisk blue-gray of day. The wind blew steadily inwards, and the sandpiper nearby was continuing its tireless tracking in the sand following the ebb of the waves.
But I had thought about the shell, and the sea decided to fulfil my wish. The next big wave sent it crashing towards me. It was now at my feet, all I had to do was to bend down and pick it up. And pick it up I did.
It was fairly heavy and smooth at the edges, tossed about by the waves countless times against the shore. Should I keep it? I could. After all wasn't this the ocean fulfilling a random wish that crossed my mind?
But when the sea gives, it has the ability to take away as well. A superstitious fear beset me. I had been reading all the cautionary tales and flyers about rip currents, how they could snatch the unwary beachgoer from the sand.
I thought no more of it. After a brief last look at the shell, I tossed it out back into the sea. This was one shell that I would not be taking home with me.