The road led to the coast. It seemed like a sea breeze was there already. Forest by the road was smiling. Large bright sign said: "seashells, the last chance to bring home memories". A mount of the seashells shone like a white snow. They did not stop- he was driving, and she didn"t want to ask him about anything. The rest of the way to the coast she dreamed about digging in this mount and finding beautiful conches.
Years passed. They were again at the same road, going from the last shared vacation. She was not afraid to make him angry any more- just indifferent. The same sign, faded, appeared at the same spot. She asked him to stop, and he did. Only a little hill of the remnants was there- broken shells, white dust...While they were still going through life together, shells were laying there. People were buying some, the rain washed them, the sun bleached...