The Beige Beaches of Puerto Rico

Enyxn had dreamed of the beaches of Puerto Rico every single day for a month. Rochester’s winter had been unrelentingly grey and drab, and the dirty snow was no substitute for the beige sands of the land that she called home. When she slept, she could feel the heat from the sand between her toes. She could feel the sense of enormity that the huge ocean always gave her. She’d wake up to the cold outside her window and the cold coming up through the thin carpet of her dorm room, and wonder at how close the ocean had felt just moments before.

Then one morning, Enyxn awoke to find sand between her toes. There wasn’t much of it, but it still bothered her for most of a morning, and she couldn’t figure out where it had come from. The next morning, there was more sand. By the end of the week, there was about a gallon of it between her sheets every morning. She noticed upon waking that it was still warm, too, as if it had been taken out of the sun just before she woke. Her friends started to notice how tan she was getting in the middle of the winter, and Enyxn began putting on sunscreen after she brushed her teeth and put on her pyjamas.

One night, her dreams were even more vivid than usual. She saw her friends from home, spoke to them and asked them about their lives. Everything about her home was just as real as it was when she was there, and when she felt herself at last losing the dream to the waking life, the sound of the waves gently rolling to shore carried her there, and when she opened her eyes, the sound was still there. There was sun coming through her bedroom window, and not the weak sun of Rochester in February. Slowly, she got out of bed, went to the window, and opened it.

Below her was the ocean.

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Written on 4/16/16 at Artawake for a student who was a little homesick.

The Beige Beaches of Puerto Rico