The Conch shell drifted up the shoreline on a wave, then back with the bubbles that softly lined the shore, to lie there waiting...in comes the tied, out goes the tide and out goes the shell on the wave. The shell on the crest of the wave...
...for more than a day, they played.
The little girl skipped along the shoreline, looking for just the right shell to take home. She spied the Conch floating freely, bobbing up and down, up and down. The girl raced to catch it before it floated away.
…but, she was too late, what could she say?
She screamed over the roar of the waves, “I loved you, I loved you. Stay!” Angrily, she grabbing a fistful of sand and threw it at the shell, but it was too late, the shell was taken out to sea.
...gone, the shell was pulled away, to be free..