We sat on the beach and watched the clouds roll in. The setting sun painted the towering shapes pastel pink and purple.
“My grandmother used to take me to the beach as a girl.” My mother said. “On evenings like this we’d watch the clouds and try to spy giants walking on the horizon.”
I scoffed. I was too old to believe in fairy tales. But then I heard booming footsteps, and we saw a towering shape emerge. He peered down at us.
“Excuse me,” he said in a booming voice. “Can you direct me to the ice cream stand?”