Celio felt the grass sting his palm and breathed in the salty air of the sea grumbling in the distance. He cherished the thrumming of the waves, the shuffling of the wind, the dancing of his own heart. He couldn’t see it at all, but he could still enjoy the environment around him. That’s what many people didn’t understand. Sometimes, you don’t need eyes to enjoy something beautiful.
“Celio, I found a nice shell!” His little brother Horatio called a few feet to his left. Horatio’s voice was light as if it could drift with the breeze. Celio pushed himself off from the sandy grass and, with the help of his cane, made his way toward the sound of his brother’s voice. The grains of sand shifted underneath the metal stick and embraced his sneakers. He loved the way his feet sunk into the soft substance as if he were being transported to another world. When he reached Horatio, he knelt down and held his hand out for his brother to place the shell in his palm. The damp, curvy figure tickled his skin and he could feel the water dripping off his brother’s slimy hand. “The water feels cold! I don’t get how you can stay so long in the waves, Horatio.” Horatio laughed. “It was worth it to get this shell.” Celio fingered the sea’s gift, stroking each curve and feeling its smooth underbelly. “It’s fascinating. You should bring it home to show Mom and Dad.” “I think I will!” Celio smiled at the excitement in Horatio’s voice. He loved how enthusiastic his brother was about all the little things in life. Celio wanted to be that way, too. That’s why he visited natural environments and forced himself to focus on his senses. He liked being himself, he liked belonging. Celio let his brother take back the shell and he buried his hand in the sand. The dry and wet particles mingled together and shivered against his fingers. He wondered if the tiny insects that burrowed in the sand were being disrupted by his movement. A flicker of guilt flashed through him. Humans could be so destructive sometimes. His brother was now mumbling a Portuguese song their mother often sang, although a bit out of tune. Celio gently recovered his hand from the soil and swayed to his brother’s music, letting himself hum along. “I want to go to Portugal someday,” Horatio said. “It would be cool to actually visit our grandparents in their own home instead of through phone calls once a year.” “Yeah.” Celio brushed off sand that had floated onto his t-shirt. “That would be nice.” He wasn’t sure that would happen anytime soon. While his family wasn’t struggling at the moment financially, it wasn’t like they had that much money to just throw around. Celio wished he could go on vacations like his friend Pavel did with his family. “Hey, Celio,” Horatio said. His voice was tentative in a way that made Celio want to pause his whole body just so he could focus on listening to Horatio. “Do you think we will ever be able to travel?” Celio didn’t know what to say. He wanted to comfort his brother, but he didn’t want to lie. He plastered a smile onto his face. “You know, we can travel right now. Close your eyes.” He heard the sounds of Horatio fidgeting on the sand. “They’re closed,” Horatio announced. “Good,” Celio said. “Now, listening to what’s around you and keeping your eyes shut, what do you see?” A moment passed. Celio focused on the wind whistling by him and the laughter of a family playing in the waves. Along the boardwalk behind him, he could hear the thumps of footsteps and the scratching of bicycle wheels along wood. “I hear people having fun and walking around,” Horatio said slowly. “What else?” “The ocean, but Celio, this is nice and all, but it isn’t the same.” Celio sighed and ran his fingers through the sand, letting the dry particles slide off his skin. He could heard the disappointment in his brother’s voice, the sadness of feeling stuck. Celio had been so focused on observing his environment, he forgot to pay attention to his brother. “You’re right. To be honest, I don’t think we’ll be able to travel anytime soon.” “It stinks.” “It does.” Horatio groaned. “Vacations are probably overrated anyway. Maybe we’re the lucky ones since we get to stay here and really appreciate this place.” Celio grinned. He listened to the sound of his brother rubbing his hand along his seashell. “Yeah, that may be true.”
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AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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