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Sea Level

Colleen Shields Griffin | Poppy Ridsdill

When my mouth filled with seawater, I was six. Seagulls battled, yet my sister sensed no one. Like a mermaid, she danced, her mane skimming the surface. Panic numbed my legs and filled my middle. I tried to shout. Water streamed down my throat. My toes stretched. Water pushed. Tipped toes grasped roiling sand. A wave buoyed me.

“Carmel!”

Her dark hair whirled and her eyes widened. Like a rescuer’s rope, an arm extended and yanked me to her. Covered in goose bumps, I breathed.


About Colleen Shields Griffin

Colleen Shields Griffin is a freelance writer who lives outside of Boston with her husband and four children.

Visit the author's page >


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