Boy with a Sandy Face

-I drew this smiley face in the sand on Eastbourne beach with my old school friends. The oncoming tide made me feel a nip of melancholy that the sea was about to wash away the childish image.-

He came to me, running and rolling his head like a mad thing. Water spat from his hair into my eyes as I stumbled backwards over the sliding pebbles.

“No! No!” I waved my hands.

His head banged into my chest. We were ten so the height difference was in my favour. His wet, gritty face shook about, wetting and dirtying my sun top and neck. I laughed, hating him.

“That’s horrible. You’re horrible.”

Ryan grinned at me, his chin and cheeks red from where the sand had also scraped at him.