Write Your Name In The Sand Novels & Stories

I uttered then shrugged. "To calm yourself down? Something like that?” He asked again. I nodded and silently wrote my name in the sand. But unfortunately, it was suddenly erased when the wave hit the sand where I wrote. "You're penmanship is quite good." He said. I looked at him then plastered a wide smile. "Really? I hate my penmanship though,” I said then laughed while continuously writing my name on the sand. "No, it's pretty. Just like you.” He said while he was lifting my head again to look at him.

Clare shook her head. “You have to learn how to runs fastly before you mess me…” I point the sand to Clare and about to throw it at her. “No… no… I’m done, I give up!” She says. “Ouch!” Clare yelps. I threw her with the beach sand. “Hahahahahahaha” We laugh and placing our ass on the sand at the seashore. “Huh… I’m so tired” Clare sighs as she wipes her forehead. “Me too…” I reply with a heavy breathe as I’m looking at the sky sea and see the birds fly around us.

We began the laborious walk out into the sand hills, the ground slipping away from beneath us, and the sand ranging from hot to burning. “The sands can grow so hot that they become glass,” the woman said. “See, look,” she picked up a piece juggling it from hand to hand to cool it, before passing it around. “The lighter the sand, the looser it is underfoot, and where you see these, you know that the sand has become very hot, and may still hold that heat.” “I think the soles of my boots are melting,” the younger man commented. “Very likely,” the woman agreed. “The sands can burn the skin so be wary.”

Hе ѕlung hіѕ arm over mу ѕhоuldеr drаwіng mе іn tight аgаіnѕt hіѕ ѕіdе аѕ wе mаdе оur wау down. The mоmеnt my Cоnvеrѕе hit thе ѕаnd I pushed mу fееt іn farther imagining hоw іt wоuld fееl between mу tоеѕ. It wаѕ оnе оf those сооl, crisp dауѕ. Thе wаvеѕ lарреd gently аgаіnѕt thе sand аѕ the salty frеѕh аіr fіllеd оur lungs.

“I want to do it on the sand close to the fire.” “The sand?!” I exclaimed. Was it worth a try?

The man stands in the distance and shouts: “Come here, Mia!” "But I can't touch water," replies the girl. David smiles, narrowing his eyes slightly because of the few rays of the new sun, he says loudly: "It's okay, you can build sand castles" Mia hesitates for a moment, then agrees anyway. Before going to his place, the girl carefully lifted her skirt a little for fear that the sand would stick to it. She walks slowly, which also makes David a little impatient. He says to himself:

"We just need to be **Real**." He handed me the pencil. "What should we build first?" he asked. I looked at the empty, grey earth. I looked at the survivors. I leaned over and wrote a single word in the dirt. **H-O-M-E.** As I finished the last letter, a single blade of **Green Grass** pushed through the salt.

Just the sound of Lina’s laughter and the distant cry of gulls. I stood barefoot on the wet sand, letting the water rush over my toes. The horizon stretched out endlessly, like a promise I hadn’t dared believe in until now. Behind me, Alex and Lina were building a sandcastle with a level of dedication that made me smile. She had a pink bucket clutched in her tiny hands and was directing her father like a commander on the battlefield. “You’re not packing it tight enough!” she scolded him, pouting. Alex raised his eyebrows and looked over at me helplessly. “Tough crowd.”

Erlan held my hand as we walked along the sand. “Do you like playing in the sand?” Erlan asked while looking at me. I chuckled. “It's been a long time since I played in the sand. Maybe this is the right time.” Erlan laughed and suddenly dumped sand at my feet. "Let's begin!" We started playing in the sand, building small sand castles, and throwing sand at each other happily. A moment later, Erlan jumped up and started running towards the sea. “Come on, come after me, Kate!”

"Here you go too!" Uniformed, I rubbed the sand against his face, doing some kind of sandy-makeover for him. "Gosh, Louella!" He cried, trying to dodge my hands. "This is what you deserve." I laughed hard at him. "Okay, let the game begin!" Like little children, we began to dig our hands in the sand, plastering our skin and cloth with it. We went on, and on, and on, neither of us ready to give up. Eventually, I won the sand game. He gave up.