and it’s not like I’m trying to. It’s just that so many people have beautiful faces. Whenever I’m at a crowded beach, I believe in God again. It makes me understand why humanity has always carved gods in our own image. My New Year’s resolution was to say any compliment I think of, but it would be weird to tell a stranger on the beach Hey, I love your hair. If I could sculpt, I’d make up another god after you, a knock-off Aphrodite. Today, I hope we all live forever. I don’t normally like the thought of immortality. This is new, and it’s because of the sunshine. I hate the cold. Whenever I die, bury me somewhere warm. Sorry. I don’t know why being happy makes me think about death so much. My little sister wants me to swim with her. It’s freezing and I gasp but hey, I once read an article about how ice cold showers decrease your stress response. I tried it for a couple months. It didn’t work, but thirtieth time lucky, perhaps? It’ll only get warmer from now on, I hope. If God exists, I think she’s warm. An omnipotent heated blanket, draped over the universe. Maybe heaven’s just California, but without taxes and drought. I wouldn’t mind. When I was five, my dad told me the ocean was salty because it was made of God’s tears. I like to think they were happy tears.
Rachel Norman is a student at the University of Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in publications including Isacoustic, Falling Star, and Writers Resist.