Yamila Frej — “Terror of the Firs”

A sea of scintillating blue diamonds swept back and forth on the shore. The calm whisper of the wind foretold of thunderstorms later that night, but not one soul could care less that cool day on Sand Beach. Each soft crash of the waves lulled the lazy daytrippers to sleep. The seabirds circling above sang their summer song without end, passing it along through the wind and into the firs. Those big, Balsam Firs precariously perched on the edge of the riverside cliff. The scene was something out of a postcard, but all Jen could focus on was the stench. 

Those damn Balsam Firs.