Free Printable Footprints In The Sand Novels & Stories

“I have been along here over different seasons, and there seems to be none that roughens this ocean.” “I can see why Estreau wants so very much to colonize here,” Thaelen commented before leading the way up the beach, from the wet, firm sand, to where it crumbled into fine granules underfoot and was heated almost beyond tolerance by the sun. When they reached the base of the sandhills, they sat to dust as much sand from their feet as they could, and rolled down their trousers, trapping the cuffs inside their knee-high boots.

**Flashback** The sun hung like a brilliant golden orb in the vast expanse of the sky, casting long, stretching shadows across the vibrant playground. It was a picture-perfect day, the kind that belonged in storybooks, where innocence thrived and dreams took flight. Little Kiera, with her hair tied up in playful pigtails that bobbed with every step, was utterly absorbed in her imaginative world. In the heart of the playground, she crouched down, her tiny hands fervently at work, sculpting and shaping the soft, golden sand into an intricate castle. Each detail, no matter how small, was attended to with a child's meticulous care.

She wasn't supposed to be part of this scene. "JASPER!" I try calling again. The beach is empty except for our picnic blanket, our lunch box and buckets, and our small pile of sand dollars. Two sets of footsteps trail from the blanket to the water. Larger ones and little ones, hardly make any imprint in the sand, pressed down by a body so light that he almost walks on top of the sand. A flash of memory, brief and light, shows Jasper staring in wonder at a very large sand dollar. "We need to get closer to see it," a voice not quite mine says. "We need to come up really close to the water. Hold my hand, I'll keep you safe."

Just how? Avril stood there shuddering and loosing all her mind. A real monster. What she saw was real. She was so loosing her mind. She looked down at the footprint again and knelt beside it to examine it. She gulped down when she saw how big it was now that she was closer to it. It was about the size of two of her palms staying side by side on the sand. Little wonder it shook the ground when it walked earlier. The footprint had claw marks. Very sharp claws that dug into the earth deeply. The footprint looked like that of a dog. Like a paw. Only bigger and modified.

___________________________________________________________________________ Andrew’s Pov A normal path way comes in to view – the only thing that makes this path way different from the rest is that there are footprints on them. I slowly walk over to the first foot print , analyzing the substance that causes the left behind print. Though it was hard squatting down with the princess clinging to my body , I did it. The first foot print leading away from the direction it is coming from is the lightest of them all ; however , the substance being used was one that I knew of very well.

The tide was low, pulling back and leaving slick ribbons of sand. Gulls cried somewhere far off. And there they were. A line of small footprints. Delicate. Bare. They cut across the sand, straight and determined, until they reached the place where the water licked the shore. And then they stopped. Hector stopped too. The last print was half-filled with water. The next wave came in and blurred it, then pulled back and left nothing but smooth sand. No prints leading back. No scuff marks. No sign of a struggle.

The sky had gone bruised lavender, the sea restless under the last of the light. Kael slipped off his shoes first, toes curling into the cool sand. He knelt in front of Maxine without a word, gentle fingers undoing the straps of her sandals, lifting each foot in turn so she could step free, his touch careful, reverent, never lingering too long. They walked barefoot along the wet, packed sand where the waves could reach them. Fingers laced, they matched pace without trying. The water rushed up to kiss their ankles, cold and bright, then retreated in a soft hiss of foam. Neither spoke for a long time.

They weren't theirs. Someone had arrived before them. The footprints led directly toward the lighthouse. The Stranger's voice echoed one final time from the pen. "You are not the first to seek the Silence..." "...and if those footprints belong to who I fear..." "...then we have already lost." Adrian knelt beside the nearest footprint. It was larger than his own. At its center... someone had pressed a familiar symbol into the sand. A feather... crossed with a key. The same mark of the ancient Guild of Authors.

Stephanie was so engrossed in the drawing that she did not hear Tiffany come in. Tiffany watched the meaningless lines sprawled across the drawing board begin to take form. It was a beach scene. On the edge of the ocean was a pair of sneakers with one leg resting on top of the other. Then there were footprints on the beach sands leading to the ocean. A girl stood by from a distance where the footprints had begun. With her outstretched arm she seemed to be saying goodbye. "That is quite impressive," Tiffany remarked as she walked towards her. Startled, Stephanie turned and said, "How long have you been in here with me?"

It’s a long shot, but she might remember it. Just as we’re about to circle back to the house, a security guard rushes up to us. “We’ve found something. Small footprints leading toward the dunes,” he says, pointing toward the sandy hills. Jayden and I exchange a glance, hope sparking in our eyes. We sprint toward the dunes, following the footprints. The trail is faint but visible, leading us through the shifting sands. But then it just stops, the wind making the trail disappear. “Bobby! Sarah! Abby!” I shout again, my voice raw with desperation.