“Go on! Collect as much as you can and afterward we’ll get ice-cream!”
Bits of color scattered across the sand. Navy, red and white embedded beside muscle shells. A child’s fingers pluck and pick while weaving through the water line. His mother runs beside him, they gather up as much as they can. Three bags full. Once home perhaps they’ll make something new from their treasure.
This new sea glass does not shimmer in sunlight. It is dull and blunt to the adult eye. The child does not know what sea glass is, the game holds the same joy as it held for his mother when she was just a girl. She tells him sea glass is beautiful. She tells him it is rare and valuable. Unknowingly he gathers what would have become microplastic with his fingertips.
To him it is beautiful.
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