SublimeSeaShells

It was just a small shell on a big beach.

My three-year-old son handed it to me like he'd handed me a hundred others that day – sandy, unremarkable, the kind of thing little boys collect by the handful and forget in their pockets.

But this one was different.

I turned it over in my palm, wiping away the sand, and noticed something I'd never seen before. A tiny, perfect hole ran right through its center. Not drilled. Not carved. Made by the sea itself – probably another creature, long ago, finding its way through.

A predatory snail, maybe. Or years of waves and rock. Either way, the ocean had made jewelry before I ever touched it.