Poetic Waves Novels & Stories

hit. A massive, violet pulse rippled across the surface of the ocean, moving with the speed of a tidal wave. It didn't move the water; it moved the meaning of the water. For a split second, everyone on the beach felt Leo’s final thought—a searing, localized burst of agony and bone-deep exhaustion—before it vanished into the depths. The Conflict of the Living

I took a deep breath and walked to the sea until I could find the best spot to start swimming. The cold water hugged me as soon as I took a dip. It feels relaxing so I smiled and loosen up. I remember those times when Sister Mona was taking me on the sea. I remember her saying that the waves of the sea are fascinating. It wasn’t just a movement of the sea but a symbol of a new beginning, a sign that every wave comes another wave. It will not always be the same wave but it will surely have one after another. Like our lives, we do not have the same life as others have because of the differences that we have but it is all important and valuable. For me, waves are my peace and rest. The only thi

The "Eraser Wave" was not a wall of water or fire, but a wall of absolute silence that moved through the vacuum at a fraction of the speed of light. As it approached Aethelgard, the vibrant azure sky began to bleed into a dull, necrotic grey, and the liquid quartz oceans beneath us started to simmer with a frantic, jagged energy. I stood at the primary resonance console of the First Mother’s Breath, my Tempered Heart drumming a steady sixty beats per minute, a rhythm I had to maintain as the universal metronome for the entire planet.

Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills,

Some waves were worth chasing, some were worth passing, and some were worth waiting around for. Some waves brought you incredible joy, while others hit you hard and tossed the life out of you. But that was okay because there was always that one magic wave worth riding for. The one wave that could make you feel alive, the one that could take you some place new, to a place of endless freedom, a never-ending summer, or to some unknown rapture. A wave like her. All was peaceful and calm out in this blue water, until suddenly, I heard this thundering noise coming from above. All of a sudden, the wind was blowing like crazy all around me. I opened my eyes and looked up above to see this bright whi

The view that had once felt like an escape now seemed like a cruel reflection of her inner chaos. The endless waves mirrored the storm in her mind, their rhythmic ebb and flow mimicking the battle between her conflicting emotions. The waves, relentless and indifferent, crashed against the shore, and with each surge, she felt her heart tighten further. How could something so beautiful—so serene—stand in stark contrast to the tempest raging inside her?

She said as a tributary of tears ran down to the sandy ground through her eyes and down her ears. As the horizon closes: the breeze increased, and wave and current also did. The sea washed the bank, softly climbing towards her feet. The wave echoed, almost like it said a word, the water caressed her legs like to say: 'the water had hands'. The sea now appeared like it began where the cloud drifted, enfolding the hills with thick moisture, the water ran wild dancing like an excited child. The vibration from the waves was like the wild dreams of a prisoner longing for freedom. The wave was so close to her that as they broke, drops of spray ran down her face.

Aby shrieked, tears of pleasure streaming freely down her face as she unraveled completely, convulsing around him already. The climax hit like an explosion. It was violent, and blinding, shattering everything else away. Aby screamed loud and raw, no longer holding back, her whole body locking rigid as her thighs shook uncontrollably. Wave after wave of pleasure ripped through her, inner walls spasming rhythmically around his throbbing length and milking him for everything he had.

a splash of thoughts. She didn’t even notice that for how long she walked but until she reached her house, some tears were dried on the cheek, some on neck and some reached her shirt collar and made it wet, giving a cooling effect to her collarbone. All the way after thinking, finally she made a decision. She hoped that her mother would not notice her face. She reached the door but a sound captured her attention. Someone was reciting a holy book, it was in Arabic, she did not understand it but a sense of tranquillity, peace she felt in her mind. The reciter again came up with the translation and read “AND PUT THY TRUST IN ALLAH, AND ENOUGH IS ALLAH AS A DISPOSER OF AFFAIRS” And she was dazzl

Leo asking measured questions about rip currents and how waves are formed, Mia asking whether any famous surfers had pets and specifically what kinds, and if they ride the waves with them. Melody’s eyes follow their every move. The ocean is doing what the ocean does: being enormous, indifferent and full of pull. The waves are gentle — it is a calm afternoon, the swells soft and slow, the kind that break in long white lines and sighs back out. Objectively, she knows this. She can see it. She can measure the tameness of it with her eyes.