The Pygmy Giant

by Juliet Boyd

The water lapped over her feet in waves, slowly gaining ground. It felt gentle, almost comforting. It reminded her of holidays on the beach when she was a child. She bent down and cupped some in her hands. She knew she ought not to drink it but she could not stop herself. It tasted a little bitter, she thought, and she drank some more.

Juliet Boyd lives and works in Somerset and writes in her spare time.