Write Your Name In The Sand Novels & Stories

Still, the sound broke out but it wasn't loud enough to alert anyone of my presence on the training ground. “She's alive,” I whispered, my voice cracking and sounding weak. I whimpered, I sobbed, I grunted. I did almost everything anyone would do when they were hurt and happy at the same time. I dug my fingers into the sand and wrote her name without thinking. WILLOW. The name didn't come out well as they were crooked because my hands were shaking but anyone would see what I had written. It wasn't bad. “She's alive.” I said again but with a louder voice than the last but not loud enough for someone else to hear.

What exactly was she planning to do? “I want you to draw or write something on the sand that reminds you of me and I will do the same as well. What do you think about that?” Maxi chuckled as soon as he heard of that idea. It sounded so childish and incredibly naïve but he thought it would be fun if he played along with her, with a twist. “You know, baby, when you want to carve our love, don’t carve them on the sand. The wave will crash and wipe them away quite soon.” He advised before walking toward the back direction and grabbed two large rocks in his hand.

I stare at it for a moment then decide to go for it. Dexter might be a while. I might as well make the most of it while I’m here. I cross the street and then take my shoes off and hold them in my hand just before I step into the sand. My toes immediately bury into it. Feeling sand between my toes is a heavenly and relaxing feeling.

~Lianna Black~ Six years later… Footprints on the sand, two pairs almost three sizes smaller than the other, made a clear path for me to follow. Laughter mingled with the lapping waters in the beach. The salty and cold touch of the ocean on my bare feet sent a tingly sensation straight to my contented heart.

I turned back to the game. Eventually, I handed the ball off, ignoring the chorus of groans when I said I had to go. One kid gave me a high five. Another offered me a seashell. I pocketed it without thinking. Sadie had drifted down the shore. She was standing near a little booth where an old couple sat under a faded parasol. One was sketching beach scenes in soft pastels. The other shaped handmade sandals from rubber and woven rope. There was something oddly quiet about the setup—no one was pushing sales. Just art, made slowly.

a young girl informs me. I take a knee, place my hand on her arm, and smile. "Never forget you can do anything you want if you set your mind to it." I write, "Never stop dreaming" add my prerequisite, "Play like a girl," and sign my name on the back of her shirt. I'm sweaty and dirty, my teeth are gritty, and I don't care.

Princess Golder’s Point Of View Prince Simon and I walked along the sandy beach, hand in hand, the sun setting in the distance. The waves crashed against the shore, creating a soothing melody that filled the air. The breeze was cool against our skin, and the sand was warm beneath our feet.

We molded the sand into intricate structures and laughed. As we continued to build our sandcastles, our laughter echoed along the shore. Dante's hands skillfully molded the sand, forming delicate towers and intricate details. His eyes sparkled with a childlike wonder, mirroring my own excitement. I carefully arranged seashells, adorning our creations with the treasures the ocean had gifted us. The soft sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to our conversation. "Can you believe how intricate these castles have become?" Dante marveled, his voice filled with awe.

“Take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.” I nodded and started walking. My sneakers kept sinking into the sand, making it hard to move fast, so I just took them off. The sand was cold and a little bit damp. I walked all the way down to where the water was hitting the shore. The waves were loud, making a crashing sound that filled up my ears and made it so I couldn't hear anything else. I sat down on a big piece of wood that had washed up on the shore. I opened the box and took out the letter. My eyes stung as I looked at the pages. I had used a lot of ink, writing down every single thing I felt.

Because they takes risks so much and can get hurt in the process. After that few older women came and started playing dhol while sitting in the right side to all the girls. The girls started singing between themselves. And I just look after the guests. “What name do you want in Mehandi Sandy? Lucky or Lakshman?” Asha asked. “Lakshman.” She replied immediately. “Why?” Asha asked completely confused. “He will get irritated seeing this. It is just a small revenge. I asked him to write my name on his palm but he said he won’t so..” Sandhya replied and everyone laughed.