Today marks the day of the 2004 Tsunami that struck the shores of several countries worldwide.

Leaving devastation.

Loss.

A weight that must be remembered.

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I watched, my waves tense, as children left chocolate wrappers on the pristine sand. Fishermen lingered at the shore, ignoring the curious dolphins poking their noses into their nets. I regarded them coldly – patient and endless, as they pursued their selfish joys.

Waiting.

They were close. Too close.

The tension caused my wavy hands to clench, ready to unleash. The veins in them were about to burst. I found myself listening to my rising impatience.

I pulled back further, gathering myself. My form stretched across horizons, waiting to release. There were the lovers. The thoughtless fishermen. The wrapper-throwing children. I recall bearing the careless weight of their ways. Each mistake, each inconsiderate act, each denial – bore into my waves.

My spindly, watery hands stilled. Grey covered the skies, along with a blanket of silence. The wind stopped blowing on my cue. Thunder growled softly, ready when I was. I stayed upright, silent, as all on the distant shores laughed without care. I waited, testing their false confidence. Nothing they did – wasted food, offensive plastic bottles – escaped my notice. I stood poised.

Ready for the inevitable.

Meanwhile, plastic bottles lay, unrisen corpses, on the shore. An angry crowd of thunderclods gathered, silent, in the background. In my watery hands were dangerous nets, uneaten food, dead fish – ready to return to those who owned them.

I carried their forgotten burdens. Each small, yet costly mistake.

Their responsibility. In my grasp.

My dirty blue fingers painfully remembered each transgression. Each misstep cut my sides.

Still, I lingered, patient, endless. Responsibility cavorted, unaware, on the trash-ridden shore.

I remembered. Always remembered. So would they.

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