Bubble

I sat in my chair, the surf lapping at my feet, the empty beach stretching out on each side of me as far as the eye could see. With each wave, a small gift was laid before me: a pebble, a piece of coral, a shell — none of which I wanted.

I was looking for peace. I was looking for the answer to it all.

I thought it had to be here somewhere.

It was then I noticed a bubble floating on the waves. A simple bubble, no more than two inches across, moving in time with the surf. You see bubbles all the time at the beach, but most are small, not much more than foam, really. This one was different, as it seemed to defy the surge of the waves and the power of the ocean itself.

I watched, mesmerized, as it rose and fell, rose and fell. It made me wonder that if something that fragile could withstand the power of the seas, then what are we capable of?

Then the fucking thing burst.