The Beach; Saturday Morning [06/10].

[what_big_teeth]

When she was feeling a little bit restless, Eleanor found her way down to the beach, and she'd started to even pick out favorite spots or preferred little nooks along the shoreline, usually the ones with rocky bits so that when she sat there with her toes in the water, she could contemplate just climbing on top of them and throwing herself in, and swimming out as far as she could, or just watching the sun struggle up over the horizon, fat and red.

The nuns had always discouraged swimming. Too revealing, too dangerous. Currents and riptides and the rise of the two-piece swimsuit were their enemies. Eleanor had always imagined they'd be better at tit than they though, though: that if a nun fell over the side of a boat, her habit would spread like a manta ray, and she would jet through the water, made new. Eleanor moved out into the water a little further, but still not ready to dive in.

It wasn't quite the same, as the water back home; she felt like a different person, while at school, but not the same person here as she was at St. Brigid's. She hadn't realized, there, what she missed, or what she loved, but then she was home, and she remembered, and now home was gone and the sorrow was catching up with her again. Better to have loved and lost, they said, but was it really? It felt like having her heart restored to her only for it to break again, several times in the last year.

She thought, again, about just diving in, but something held her back. As if she knew if she did, she wouldn't bother coming back. So, for now, Eleanor just stood in the water, her toes digging into the sand, and watched the sun come up while contemplating her place under it.

And wishing she could have just slept in like a normal teenager would probably be doing on a Saturday morning. But what did that even mean, around here, really?

[[ parts taken from Chapter Six of What Big Teeth; post is definitely open for all your morning beachy needs~ ]]