When she awoke and rose to meet the day, a thin film of mist covered the ocean, weaving the illusion that nothing beyond it existed.
Of course she knew that it was a lie; her father had sailed them far out the summer before, and in the distance she had been able to clearly see the sliver of land bordering the blue. She had loved that day; the sun, the sea, the sky. The wind, rushing through and dancing with the lengths of her hair. And the smile – the assuring rock of a smile – that her father had worn. A silent promise; I wont let go.
She had known he had cancer. Not first off, of course, but when the visits to the doctor had gotten more frequent and the questions left unanswered, she knew it had to be something. When she had finally confronted him, a single tear welled in the corner of his right eye, before toppling over to meet the rough plane of his face. He didn’t need words to answer.
Her mother was long gone. She didn’t know where, but didn’t really care to know. Her face had long faded from her memory, as had her voice, her laugh, the embrace of her warm body. Gone, like a feather on the wind.
She didn’t mind being alone. In fact, some would have said she preferred it. She wasn’t ordinary, but what’s ordinary? Two parent families split, siblings took drugs and screwed themselves up. Education was thrown away on a whim, on empty promises. At least she was sensible.
She was quiet. Sure, she would answer when spoken to, but never went out of her way to make conversation. She was comfortable in her silence.
She hadn’t cried when he passed. She had stood, strong, while others mourned around her. They offered her their condolences, and she nodded, thanked them for coming. Afterward, she had placed a single lily on the grave, before turning away and walking out the gates without looking back. She was old enough to look after herself, and the will he had left gave her everything she needed. But entering the house, the hole he had left haunted her, and it wasn’t long before she had sold it, and moved to a smaller place by the beach. It was comfortable and desolate, and reminded her of the better times.
A seagull called, daring to walk nearer her. The first thing she noticed was that it walked with a limp, and couldn’t help but feel as if she could relate. She stood up from where she had sat on the beach, the movement scaring the bird into flight. If only I had that alternative.
The waves were at peace, but she knew better. Like the mist, the wide, inviting sea hid a secret, one that had claimed the life of more than one in it’s past. She knew where the rocks hid, waiting like teeth for the tongue of the sea to bring them victims. But as she knew of them, she knew where it was safe, and it was there that she shed her nightgown and made her way into the sea.
If she ever needed to cry; it was there that she did so. The cold water running in streams down her face hid her tears, and only she could feel the warmth that divided fact from fiction. The perfect disguise.
A single lilly
i wrote this not knowing where i was going, and not sure if i will continue with it… don’t know where to take it. it was just a threading together of thoughts that i wanted to get down on paper. any ideas where to go with it?
James Hennman, about 1 month ago
This has a really nice warm human feel to it. It is a shame that you say you don’t know where you are going with this because i would also like to find out. Let me know if you update this!