The sea is in my bedroom
Cocooned in mollusc form
When I press it to my ear
I can hear
The wash of the waves rolling on soft sand
The trouble is my shell phone has bad signal
It does not pick up
the squeal from my sister as cold frothy foam catches her toes,
the frantic squawks of seagulls crooning over chips
the enticing, synthesised chimes of the ice cream van
the beat of three magic taps on the top of my bucket
But it will do,
I listen and finger the shape of the swirls
Waiting until the next time I am engulfed by briny curls.
Holly Chapman is Papier's Head of PR & Community, lover of the seaside and has since upgraded from her shell phone contract.