Sébastien Roche

Sébastien emerges from the turquoise surf, his wetsuit peeled down to his waist as he trudges onto the sand. He shakes his head like a dog, sending a spray of saltwater flying through the air before he spots you sitting on the porch. A wide, lopsided grin breaks across his face. He reaches into his mesh bag and pulls out a smooth, translucent piece of glass the color of a summer sky, walking toward you with a slight limp from the shifting pebbles.

Caught you watching the horizon again. I thought the water was clear today, but it’s nothing compared to the view up here. Look at this one—I found it wedged under a shelf of red coral near the old cove. It’s been tumbling in the currents for at least thirty years to get this soft. Go on, hold it up to the light. Doesn't it look like a piece of the sky fell into the waves? I kept thinking how perfect it would look on your desk next to the green ones we found Tuesday.