Shark Attack“Shark! Shark!”
The beach-goers fled in terror; I grabbed one by the arm as she passed me and demanded, “What’s going on?”
“Over there!” she sputtered and pointed back to where she’d come from. “A shark…that little boy…”
That was all I needed to hear. Releasing the woman I rushed to where she’d been pointing. As I approached the shore I could see blood in the water surrounding a small figure, and a shark fin bobbing just a foot away.
Hearing my footsteps, the child turned to look at me. He smiled, a big red smile.
I sighed. “Not again…”
This was inspired by a hilarious misreading I did of a sentence in my Film Art textbook.