She had bought a house on a cliff, overlooking the eternal expanse of the ocean below. The entire place looked clean. The white-tipped waves that united with the rocks, only to be torn away again.
Torn away.
A violent term for something so sad. Yet fitting for something so painful. She closed her eyes, trying to forget everything from that night.
The night she packed.
The night she left him forever.
The night she came here. To the sea. Almost as if it were whispering her name. It just took her twenty years to hear it. To listen to it. To follow it. And now that she did, there was no going back. She had followed it halfway across the country. Away from all her troubles and worries. Throwing them out to the sea to be washed and cleansed and to come back up, clean and white like the linen that fluttered in the sea wind.
Talk about a way with words, this is just so well written ... just beautiful, I loved it! :o)
ReplyDeleteOh I really loved this, I thought it was very well written and I just loved the actual story...wonderful!
ReplyDeletemine is here - http://panopticulated.blogspot.com/2010/09/clean-sunday-scribblings-233.html
sigh!!! love it!
ReplyDeletebetter clean than careful
I could smell the clean!
ReplyDeletemy monkey reads you well