As a liberated five year-old she threw handfuls of sand into the ocean, thinking that's what the sea ate. She scared herself with the thought that, if she stopped throwing clumps of sand into the ocean, she would pay.
So she called out to it, reassured it, tried to calm it almost. This raging, out-of-control, passionate monster that constantly threatened to engulf her sandy self.
Sometimes, she thought it was fighting a never-ending battle with the shore, the quiet, passive shore. But mostly she thought it was just lonely, that it was really fighting itself -punishing itself for a deed so old it had forgotten all but the hatred.