The Broken Shell

She walks down the beach.
Alone.
Barefoot.
A wave rushes past her feet.
Water settles, pulls back; taking sand and rocks with it.
She rescues a seashell from the retreating tide,
Observes it.
Must have been beautiful once,
Made pretty by the swirling currents of the ocean
Then-
CRUNCH!
Shattered under a careless foot.
She drops the broken shell.
Walks on.
Head down,
Not in search of another shell,
Just an old habit
From school
Where a lack of companions and abundance of enemies enforced it.
A new wave rushes past, pulls back,
But she stays where she is,
Rooted to the sand.
She is no longer at the mercy of the tides-
No longer a broken shell.
Walks back,
Picks up the shell,
Throws it into the ocean.
Maybe the currents will fix what was broken
And the beauty will return.