EXT. ROCKY BEACH – DAY.
ISAAC, a red-haired sixteen-year-old with freckles and a strong builds, sits in the sand just past the water’ edge while WANDA, Isaac’s age with amber hair, drifts in the foamy water, holding tightly to a black rock rising from the sea.
Day’s lovely, ain’t it?
Always, Isaac, when you say it is.
I could say the sky’s dark on a Sunday and you’d still agree.
(a beat; brushing hair from her eyes)
A storm’s coming.
Isaac and Wanda look across the water and silently acknowledge the darkening horizon.
Think it’ll be as bad as last time?
Certainly, if not seven times worse.
Wanda grins and Isaac laughs.
Think I should warn father?
Absolutely not. He’ll know in his own time today, or else he won’t know at all. All the better for him, I should think.
Wanda crosses her arms as she leans against the black rock, then quickly grabs onto it as a large swell pushes her to and fro. Isaac smiles again and Wanda laughs at him.
The wind blows against them, cold and vicious, and small drops of seawater blow into Isaac’s face. He stands as the water rolls in around his feet and up to his knees, yet he’s perfectly content.
You should soon head home, Isaac. The storm’s ruthless today, and you’re further to home than I am.
You’ll leave soon, won’t you, Wanda?
As soon as you’re out of sight, so hurry along, boy, or would you rather the waves get me first?
Isaac laughs. AD LIB friendly banter.
The sea churns around them; thunder sounds in the distance.
Be well, Wanda.
Isaac waves at Wanda, then runs off along the shore.
— adapted from Sunday Sails Away
— originally posted in The Scenic Route