First Part | Second Part
“Warren, what’s a paradise?” one boy asks his brother, eyes and hands otherwise fixed on fortifying the grainy walls of their sandcastle.
“This…” Warren taps a handful of sand on a crumbling tower. “You, me and our sandy monarchy. With nothing but the sea around us, the wind within us, and the sun rising before us… This, Georgie, is our paradise…”
Georgie smiles, tearful and bittersweet. For sunrise always reminds him of the morning that’s about to come. One where the dream ends and his twin brother is dead again.