Two children drowned today. They splashed into the wind and the waves took them, first the girl, then her brother after her.
The sea sent her back quickly, washed up limp in a monokini. The boy was lost longer, caught in a furious, steel grey current until he stopped resisting.
The lifeguard blamed the tourists; the police chief blamed the wind; the mayor blamed the tragic times we live in and vowed to hold a meeting.
This evening, I walked to the beach for the sunset. I thought about walking to the edge of the water, where the froth hits the packed, brown sand. I wondered if the water would carry blood, touching my toes with its shame.
Of course not; those two kids didn’t bleed. They only stopped breathing, panicked and unsure of which way was up until their lungs surrendered.
The only blood to be seen is the scarlet clouds welcoming the prettiest sunset we’ve had in weeks, but nobody’s enjoying it.