— I miss the sea.

— That’s because it’s summer.

— Maybe, but I really miss it.

— We could go to the beach next Sunday, if you want.

— Yeah, right. A summer Sunday at the beach? That’s exactly the opposite of what I had in mind: whole families spreading out over the sand, eating sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil, and kids crying because someone stepped on their sandcastle. No thank you. That’s not my thing.

— It isn’t mine either, though the sea is the same wherever you go.

— No, it’s not. Rocky beaches have nothing to do with sandy beaches. The way water splashes against the rocks and the sound is totally different. I love that.

— Really? I prefer when the sea is quiet. Waves annoy me.

— That’s the thing! You think of the sea like a huge bathtub.

— You don’t?

— Sometimes, but what I’m missing are the afternoons when I just sat down on the rocks and watched it.

— You mean the sunsets.

— Not necessarily. I mean, sunsets are beautiful, but I’m talking about a connection. Something deeper.

— Like the Mariana Trench?

— Very funny.

— Sorry, I couldn’t resist. The truth is, I have a feeling for the sea that goes beyond respect.

— You mean fear?

— Yes. I used to go out on our boat with my dad. One day, on the way back to shore, I told him I was going to jump in and dive for a while. My father hesitated, but finally let me. I guess he did because, even though the shore was pretty far away, there was a pier nearby. I went snorkeling for a while and then swam toward the pier. The wind had changed and there were pretty big waves, so every time I tried to get closer, they pushed me against the rocks. In fact, I injured my knee one of those times, which made things worse. Then I realized I was in real trouble. I couldn’t get out of the water.

— What did you do?

— I cried. I thought I was going to drown.

— That’s so scary.

— Yes, it really was. But my dad spotted me from the shore and came to rescue me.

— Is that why you never want to go to the beach?

— Yes. I can’t even sleep when the sea is roaring.

— Okay, then let’s go on a trip to an exotic desert instead!

— I can’t do that either.

— How so?

— I’m allergic to camel fur.

— All right, then a staycation it is.