Creative Works… 104 Same Sand, Different Story by Michael Robles
It was a random day on a random summer when we first went to Zuma Beach. I can’t tell you much about how the sand felt or how cold the water was, as my 9-year-old self was solely focused on getting to play in the waves as soon as possible. Before I decided to dash off to the never-ending vastness of the Pacific Ocean, my mom had just got done yelling at my brother for doing what I hesitated to do. “You were supposed to put on sunscreen first,” she shouted to Justin. “Now you’re all wet.” He walked back nonchalantly after taking a head dive into the water. The waves couldn’t have been too high in the time I had finally put sunblock on. All I remember in that time was how it had felt like an eternity since I had been to the beach, and I was ready to take on Poseidon himself. *** We finished eating at our favorite pizza place in Hollywood, but the day was still young. It was only mid-afternoon by the time we walked Hollywood Blvd, watching the street dance groups and seeing what movies were playing at the El Capitan Theater. “Two Guys from Italy,” formerly the best pizza spot, had fed us well in all its greasy, cheesy goodness, and the sun sat in the middle of the sky. My parents, younger brother, sister, and I went to Hollywood once a month for a small family outing. Since my uncle Andrew had been living with us for the past year, he tagged along, too. After a constant back-and-forth about where to go next on the way to the car, the family finally settled on the
