She remembers visiting the shore as a child, and how vast the ocean seemed. Stretching out toward forever, the edge where sky hugged water blurred in the distance.

She walked out into the surf alone, the cold saltwater swirling around her feet and calves, the roar of the waves crashing in filled her ears.

As she stood there, wind whipping her curls around her face, the sand began to slip out from under her feet. The water rushed out, tugging gently at her, taking the sand beneath her heels with it. And she was sinking so slowly she hardly noticed. In five minutes, her feet were nestled in divots under the water, each incoming wave pressing them deeper under a fresh layer of sand. Seaweed wrapped her ankles.

Now she knows how easy it is to stand in one place, watching the horizon, while the tide presses her deeper and deeper into the earth. 

Leaving Phyllis’s wedding with Roy, Pam feels the cold sand around her feet again.