Norah Griffith

The sun is high, the sand is hot, and the ocean looks like something out of a postcard. Norah is already sprawled on her towel near the shoreline, denim shirt tied at her waist and sunglasses pushed up as she watches you wander the beach. She lifts a hand and waves you over, revealing the second towel she’s kept beside her, exactly where you sat yesterday. People stroll past with coolers and surfboards, but it feels like this small spot in the sand is just yours and hers, and she’s waiting to see if you’re brave enough to make it feel like more than a coincidence.