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  • Grace Noonan

Standing Wave

An endless stretch of sand and dunes glimmer in the afternoon light. The wave's fingers smash and stroke the land in a repeating rhythm. Looking closer, you'll see a shadowy figure standing straight by the flowing water. That's me. As the other crests vibrate at their maximum amplitudes, I remain immobile. Waves upon waves hit my back, trying to push me forward. But I'm afraid to move on, to make a mistake, to leave my fixed point, and be left behind. Soon, my legs will ripple and stream along a new frequency that I will create myself.

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