Devil's Punchbowl

She took him to the marine gardens, in the Devi's Punchbowl, on Otter Crest. It was between Linclon City and Newport, a twenty minutes drive, part of it on a highway full of one-way bridges. Each time they came to one she slowed and proceeded with caution, holding her breath as they crossed. His wasn't scared, he sat in the passenger's seat, firm and fixed.

At least it isn't night time.

He nodded.

The sky was grey, but it wasn't going to rain. The air was moist though, like the sky was sweating. She wore a dress, white with pink flowers that had a belt that tied as a bow. She wore jeans under the dress and sneakers on her feet. She brought a sweater with her. He just wore a t-shirt, black, with a tear by the hem, and jeans.

The staircase leading to the beach was steep and long and he held her hand as he led her down. Even though she was the one who brought him there, it was her idea. It was around six o'clock, low tide. They stepped onto the sand, moist and maluable like a comfort foam mattress. The beach strenched out before them, the coastline was a person's profile and the beach was the inset of the open mouth. When her feet hit the sand she started running and yelled back to him, come on.

She brought him inside the punchbowl. It was a large room, made out of rock, with openings on three side: the top was like a high ceiling with a huge skylight, if you looked up you could see the grey sky, the west, the ocean, and the north, up along the beach, the only way to get in without swimming or falling. At low tide the punchbowl was full of tidepools.

It's a sea anenome. She told him, pointing. Poke it. She touched her finger to the turquoise slime and the creature curled up on itself, like it was shy, like she had tickled it and it was giggling.

So this place is usually full of water? He looked up through the natural skylight then out towards the ocean.

Yeah, if it were high tide we'd be swimming right now. She saw him touch a starfish. You know that kills them, right?

No it doesn't.

You just killed that starfish. The starfish was purple and large, hugging a rock.

You touched the anenome, or whatever.

It's different. She balanced herself on the rock and kneeled by the starfish. I wonder if it's still breathing.

It doesn't breath.

Yes it does, and you stuck your dirty human finger in it.

He rolled his eyes and looked up through the top of the punchbowl again.
If we were here when the tide came in, would we float up to the top?

She shrugged. We could find out.

So they explored the marine gardens until the tide pools disappeared and waves came crashing into the punch bowl. Until they were waist deep in water, then chin deep, then he grabbed her hand as the tide came in and swept their feet from the rocks and they floated to the top, like icecubes.