Graphic Novel Sandcastle Novels & Stories

Sterling is so handsome! My chest seized up with a sharp, aching pain. I gently touched my lower belly and turned off my phone with trembling hands. After the 4D ultrasound, I walked home with unsteady steps. When I arrived home, it was empty. While showering, the water heater suddenly broke. When the sudden cold water hit my body, I finally broke down. I squatted down, held my belly, and sobbed loudly. Walter and I were childhood sweethearts. Our families had been close friends for generations. When we were kids, our grandfathers made vows that we would get married.

I yelled. I dropped the bundles of shells into the surface, not far away from the shore. I walked towards the sand, trying to build a sandcastle. First, I have to decide what type of architecture I am going to construct my castle around. The architecture could be old-fashioned, contemporary, or even imaginary. I snatched up one shell trying to fill that up with little sand, trying to mold it.

Fortunately, Jaxon was a member of every beach in the county. My husband opened the trunk, and got out our beach towels, chairs and several little plastic buckets that would be perfect for sandcastle building. "I'm not exactly a boy scout, but I like to think that I'm always prepared," Jaxon said with a grin. "If my girls want a sandcastle, then Dada will make a sandcastle!" "Sandcastle!" Camilla replied, clapping her little hands together in glee. "Dada make!"

Grin. He flips me off. Laughs. “Jerk,” he says. Lila drags Zephyr. “Sandcastles!” she yells. Hand in hand. Beach. Shovels. Buckets. Pink. Blue. They build. Empire. Towers high. Moats deep. Zephyr kneels. Sand on knees. Lila pours water. “Look!” she says. “Castle city!” Zephyr adds shells. “Walls,” he says. I watch from the deck. Coffee in hand. Heart full. Warm. Future.

"Like this?" "Yes fuck," I moaned, bucking up, but he pulled back quick when voices got closer some group walking by. "Later," he promised, sitting up, pulling me with him. "Let's build that sandcastle now. For real." "You're kidding." But he wasn't, scooping sand, patting it into a pile, and I joined in, rolling my eyes but smiling. "This is dumb. We're adults." "Speak for yourself," he shot back, adding towers with his fingers. "There, our castle. You and me against the waves."

It didn’t help with the way his eyes were on her. Her eyes fell on the sand and the ocean. Then, she hurriedly asked, “Do you want to build a sandcastle?” “A sandcastle?” he slowly repeated. There was disbelief in his eyes as though he was mocking her. Sylvia got defensive and folded her arms over her chest. She nodded her head and voiced out, “Isn’t building a sandcastle a form of art? It requires creativity, patience and calculation.” The corner of his lips twitched. “You do it if you want. I am going to bed.”

She smiled at him and smiled back, her thin arm circling his waist, thumb hooked in the pocket of his shorts. As he walked, he felt the shift and play of her muscles under the silken skin, and had to fight her body's response. Sweet torture, but he wouldn't trade a second even from that moment of proximity. They stopped to watch surfers trying to catch some lazy waves, and tourists in a canoe, and then stopped again to admire the sand castle that a boy and girl were building. The boy ran back and forth, carrying shovels full of sand. and throwing them where the little girl pointed, and then that little girl did the finer work of

Gray smirked when he saw me approaching. “Mind if i join in?” I asked the kids and they smiled making room for me and I smiled feeling giddy. “And someone accused me of being a teenager. You are a fucking kid.” He said and I pinched his arm telling him nit to curse around the children. Few minutes later, out sand castle was completely done and I took a picture. We all stood behind the sand castle and one of the people on the beach gladly took pictures of us after we asked. After taking the pictures, I sat down on the sand showing it to the kids who were intrigued as I swipe from one picture to the other. I was seriously enjoying myself and I was glad I decided to come with Marcus.

"Daddy! Over here! Help me build a castle!" Junior shouted from the shoreline, his hands busily scooping sand with delight. "Coming, sweetheart. Daddy's coming," Lucas replied, half-running toward his son. Without hesitation, he sat cross-legged on the wet sand, letting his pants get dirty from the splashing seawater. "This part needs to be thicker in the front so it won't collapse when the waves hit it." "If the waves come, will it break, Daddy?" Junior asked innocently, blinking as he looked at Lucas with pure curiosity.

I am in a literal marathon to stay sane. Because my aunt and uncle’s chaotic, noisy, decibel-shattering family dynamic is a total "hell simulation" for an Asperger’s girl like me. Just this morning on the beach, I watched my eight-year-old twin cousins pull their shorts down to their knees and sit their bare butts right on top of the perfectly symmetrical sandcastle I had built with painstaking effort and milimetric calculations, laughing hysterically. I had been using fine craftsmanship to channel the entire essence of Baroque architecture into that sand, and the result?