The castle was an impressive piece of architecture. Surrounded by a massive moat, it seemed to grow out of the very ground. Each of its towers rose straight and high; defenders upon the ramparts would have an excellent view over the surrounding territory. Atop each tower flew a flag, a symbol of the castle’s dominion over the lands.
It was the largest edifice for miles around, a statement of might and supremacy, of sheer unrivalled power and supremacy.
The hubris of man, however, had never been a match for Mother Nature.
The frantic digging of canals had failed to divert the power of the waves. The desperate attempt to erect a sea wall was already failing, and time was running out.
“It’s time to go.”
His father stood above the rising tide, bags in one hand and folded deckchair in the other. His mother was already halfway up to the car park, carrying the picnic basket.
“But dad!”
He protested, but he knew it was no use. Regretfully, he waded up onto the beach to stand above the tide line. Sadly, he watched his magnificent sandcastle fall, passive and unresisting, into the sea.
“Come on, lad,” his dad said, patting him on the back as the turned towards the car. “Chippy tea then back to the B&B for the night. We can come back tomorrow and build an even bigger one, eh?”
© Kari Fay
(Author’s Note: Three Word Wednesday today gives us the words Flag, Might and Passive. I struggled with it for quite a while, if I’m honest – I had a lot of ideas for the first two, but figuring out how to bring the word Passive in was very tricky.)
The Best Place By The Fire 
I love how you find out the end that it is a child and their sandcastle.Very well written
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