It Might Be Over Soon by Adam Smith
From my living room window I could see the news helicopter hovering over the beach. Human remains had been discovered at Golden Gardens. I grabbed my camera and headed down.
2016 was barely a week old and the morning, cold. The sky, water and pavement all were the same shade of gray. The beach was quiet and still. A man with a metal detector swept the sand. Reporters lazily loaded gear into their van. Two detectives hovered over the body. I
stood there with my camera.
We were all searching for something.
The treasure hunter, valuable metals.
The reporter, a story.
The police, clues.
And me, although I didn’t realize it at the time, I was searching for beauty and peace amidst so much fear.