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The ocean waves get taller and taller
They don’t crash
Looks like a tsunami, one of the locals said. We were in flip flops and expensive sun hats. I had so much sunscreen on my skin had turned to oil
The waves grew and grew
They made enough shade to cover the beach
It didn’t feel ominous and it didn’t feel friendly
If we die on this beach, I love you, I said to my Lewis. Who was looking up at the growing wave with fascination, taking a panorama shot with his phone.
Lewis, I said.
And Lewis said, This makes no sense
The water was getting very high and all the crabs and seaweed and small ocean fish and stuff were falling out of it
I love you Lewis, I insisted. I was imagining the water-crashing-down-sounds. I was imagining the ripping way the water would tear us apart. I was trying to hook my arms around him in such a way that I could not detach. I wish I had some handcuffs, I said.
And a policeman walked by and said, I can help you
Just kidding. But I thought about that and how also I had some sexy handcuffs stashed away in our luggage, and how completely useless they would be to me now
The wave got taller
I mean, is it even a wave anymore
Is a wave still a wave not waving
It’s really taking its time, isn’t it? said a lady nearby. She was also trying to hook her arm around her girlfriend’s arm. She had a flower behind her ear, and the flower was screwed up as if it were watching the wave too
All of us were. Even the dogs and the kids and there was this hush as the wave seemed to inhale and expand
*
The sun went down
The moon went up
It looked like the moon was balancing at the top of the wave , and maybe it was
Some whales had fallen out of the sea and onto the expanding beach, a new continent of sand covered in dying fish
They made these moan sounds
Like a body breaking in two
*
I’m writing this from my iPhone
It’ll say “sent from my iPhone” at the end
Because when the wave starts descending I’m hitting send no matter what
Even though I’ve already written about the sexy handcuffs that I’m embarrassed to have
And the flip flops that are giving me a blister between my big and pointer toes
And me saying, My toes hurt, even as the wave crests higher and higher, and Lewis saying, So take them off, but in this tone that like – really hurt my feelings
I’m not deleting that sentence
I’m not taking it back because I’m going to die and so is Lewis
We will die unmarried and unchildrened on this beach
In our barely thirties
With middling careers and lots of student loan debt
And a dog at doggie daycare and fuck who is going to take care of xenon
And a therapist named I kid you not TODD
I try to Pay Attention to Lewis breathing
And i say, i want you to sit down in the sand with me and put the damn phone down
Even though i’m – this is me on my damn phone as well
So i sit down in the sand
The wave starts to tip
Lewis tips back, puts a foot back for balance
And btw you can follow his panorama on Instagram, which he’s also saving for the final moment
*
The beach be like
And the moon be like
*
And auto write be like
Oh yeah I’ll see if you’re still getting the job at the shop and then I’ll bring you a check
And also
Do come home get some rest
*
Sent from my iPhone
Melissa Goodrich is the author of the story collection Daughters of Monsters, the poetry chapbook IF YOU WHAT, and the collaborative collection The Classroom. She earned her MFA in Fiction from the University of Arizona, and her stories have appeared in American Short Fiction, The Kenyon Review Online, Passages North, PANK, and others. Find her at melissa-goodrich.com and tweeting @good_rib.
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Jellyfish Review 
