Sand and water

I stare at the row of houses. Somehow I know that I am supposed to walk into one of them, but no matter how hard I try, I cant remember which. My mind is a heavy fog, and if I try too hard, the fog starts swirling and churning, and that hurts so much. I just stop. Maybe if I wait for a while it will all come back.

In the distance I hear a scream. A young woman is running frantically. She looks scared and I wonder why. But then she runs up to me and grabs my hand. “Mom, you know your not supposed to go out alone. Where did you go?”

I really don’t know why she’s holding my hand so tightly. I want to tell her that it hurts, but she’s all shaken up and I don’t want to upset her further.

My feet are wet and sandy. I must have come from the water. Although I don’t really recall.

She drags me along and I follow. For some reason, I just want her to calm down. She seems nice.

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In response to The Sunday Photo Fiction challenge of December 3rd 2017