JELLYFISH // PJ CARMICHAEL

Watching the waves crash onto the
sandy shore. A broken beach umbrella blown
over by the breeze. Swatting at a green-
head buzzing around our legs. Pointing out a large
piece of driftwood, the remnants of a fallen tree
shaped by the sea. A smooth, silvery cylinder with
gnarled and knotted limbs (what once were its roots
and branches). The tall dunes casting shadows
on a weathered fence made of wood slats and
wire. Scaffolding seen next to a house with big
new windows, the tags still stuck on the huge glass
panes. Seaside living. The greenhead returns; we
shoo it away again. Overheard conversations:
vacation plans, weddings, college days, and the
personalities of close friends. The sun in my
eyes as I adjust the chair. Seagulls roaming the
land for any food left behind, forgotten snacks and
unattended sandwiches. Couples carrying coolers
and blankets back to their vehicles as the sun
takes its time setting. Dipping our feet in the
water, a wall of blue building up before stretch-
ing to our toes. The warm embrace of dry sand.
Breathing in deep, salty air entering the lungs.
We walk the stretch of shoreline, our footprints
erased at regular intervals by the rising tide.
Passing by vacant towels, families resting beneath
canopies, fishing poles anchored in the ground.
Strewn along the ocean’s edge, the fleshy remains
of jellyfish - glossy, translucent, shining in the
evening light

PJ Carmichael is a writer, artist, lover, and dreamer living in the seaside town of Beverly, Massachusetts. In his free time, he enjoys hiking, biking, and time spent outdoors. PJ loves his friends, family, and the feeling of summer sunshine. His writing has appeared in the Boston Hassle, Vagabond City, and elsewhere.