I'm posting these here because them's the rules.
The
golden shape was within reaching distance of the shell. It hadn't decided
precisely what shape it wanted to be yet, but its arms certainly needed to
lengthen. The sand was no ground to stand on and the waves certainly couldn't
be trusted.
The
shell wasn't it's shell: the golden shape had no intention of hiding within it.
In fact it wanted to break it. Somehow. It had a few ideas but was still thinking
them through.
The
shell reflected only some of the golden shape's light back; it was bone dry.
The shape tried to ignite it remotely but it was too far away. It would have to
get closer but its limb-like rays were already boiling through the soggy sand.
Giving in to temptation, the shape started to float. Not too far off the
ground, barely an inch.
The
golden shape loomed over the shell. It was illuminated, no shadows, the sand
baking beneath it. One of the shape's blobs sprouted into an arm which
simplified into a tentacle before touching the top of the shell. Nothing more
than a touch, a lick of radiation, and the shell crumbled. The golden shape
dimmed. The waves hissed beneath its emanating heat.
Sparing
only a moment's pause, which sounded rather like a sigh, the golden shape
ascended into the fading sky, breaking large clouds with the force of its frustration.
The waves retrieved the bits of shell one at a time.
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