Based on a prompt from writing.prompt.s  given by Fayrenz.

You’ve always loved watching waves crash against cliffs. As you grew, you began to paint them, spending many a day watching from different angles, capturing the chaos of foam and water in acrylic and oil. One day, when painting at the top of the cliff, you fall and brace for death, but it does not come. Instead you feel as if you are cradled by the arm of many, “Oh no,” you hear, “We cannot destroy something that has loved us so beautifully.”