Who knows?

Posted on by Reena Saxena

Someone told me seashells carry sounds of the sea.

I hold it close to the ear for secrets nobody’s ever heard. A crashing sound hits the ear drums, but only to distract. Those are the waves hitting the shore to get scattered and gather themselves again.

I ask the shore what stories it absorbs and retains. The sand slips off my fingers in a nonchalant manner, basking in the glory of  granularity.

I address the winds, but they are too much in a hurry to stop by. 

The sea shell is still silent – the only one to know and hold.

Written for Friday Fictioneers

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