by Susan Monroe McGrath

Chelsea hated shoes. They meant pinched toes, rubbed heels, sweaty suffocated feet.

She preferred one of her twenty pairs of flip-flops. No toe pinch, no heel rub, no sweat.

Chelsea’s toes enjoyed the breeze as she rode her bike to the beach. They enjoyed slipping into the sand and then the water.

The bridge was where the trouble began. A foot slipped, a scramble to return to the rhythm of the gears, the comfy flip-flop catching the wildly spinning pedal.

In a tangle of flops and feet, the bike tipped Chelsea onto the rocks past the bridge’s edge.

Susan Monroe McGrath

Susan Monroe McGrath is a theatre graduate from a school of the arts who still can’t decide what she wants to be when she grows up. By night, she writes novels and short stories in a variety of genres. By day, she teaches science to high school students. 

Website: susanmonroemcgrath.home.blog