The market pounded with noise. People swirled past Annie. Like a swish of a paintbrush, they were a burst of colour and then they were gone. Her mum’s hand was tight in her own as she pulled her along.
Each tent held strange faces that screamed out. Someone was selling eggs and someone was selling fruit and someone was selling carpets they had painted with vibrant colours.
Sitting just behind the market, Annie could see the ocean. Waves crashed into the sand and a smile sat upon her face. The sun stretched into the sky, sparkling against the water as if glass had been sprinkled against the surface.
Annie wished she could slip away from her mother’s grasp. She could feel the pressure against her hand leave her hand. She watched her mother blend into the crowd of colours. Annie looked at her mother’s hand. It was still stretched behind her, grasping Annie’s hand tightly. Her knuckles were white. Annie smiled, waving goodbye at her mother. Both their faces were plastered with smiles.
Annie moved against the crowd. Cowering adults pushed against her, but she escaped to the edge of the markets. A small set of stairs led towards the beach. Annie looked back. A young boy sat at one of the markets. His parents were selling dreamcatchers. They spun around against the wind. He looked at her. She looked at him. She stepped down to the beach. Sand rushed into her shoes. It was hot on her bare feet. The beach was flooded with people. Screaming children played in the water. Grinning women bathed in the bright sun, their skin turning bright red. Lifeguards eyes were moving around, their skin painted in white zinc.
Annie’s footsteps left imprints in the sand all the way to the water’s edge.
She made a sandcastle. It was decorated with her handprints and broken shells and a smile drawn with her finger. She laid down next to it, soaking up the sun’s rays like the older women did.
Squinting her eyes, she watched her sandcastle. Guarded it with her small body.
A crab crawled along the roof.
“Go away,” Annie said. The crab looked at her and shook his head. “Why not?”
More crabs scuttled onto the sandcastle’s roof. They all looked up at Annie, their eyes wobbling.
“This is my sandcastle. It’s not yours. Go away,” Annie told the crabs. They waved at her.
She stood up. Her eyes watered and her hands firmly held onto her hips, the way her mother’s hands did when she was angry. “I don’t want to ask again. I’ll tell on you.” But the crabs were laughing. Annie looked up but the beach was gone. The people weren’t there anymore. No laughing kids, no flying red-and-yellow flags.
“You guys are so mean.” She kicked the sandcastle. Small broken shells went flying.
The crabs laughed.