Lyllea
08-15-2010, 08:06 AM
The cool breeze caressed her pale legs as she made her way down the rocky path. There was a hint of salt in the air, clinging to her milky arms, the elderly man licked his lips, savouring the taste of the sea, breathing it in as fast as his lungs would allow. She moved to take another step, but he stopped her.
‘Not yet, my love.’ He said, his sightless eyes gazing out over the coastline, trying to imagine what was there. Obediently the girl stopped, holding his frail body against her, the path was difficult and steep, guiding the old man wasn’t easy, she took the rest gratefully. Anything to delay arrival. Her eyes too surveyed the coast, but she saw. Beside her, he cleared his throat. ‘Tell it to me, my dear. Tell me what you see. What does it look like? I taste the sea, but feel no sun. Why?’
‘The sky is overcast, my love.’ She replied quietly. ‘You feel no sun, because it is not there. It has gone to hide behind the clouds, which will surely cry out their storm as I return. The tide has just gone out, the beach is a silvery grey, the birds have taken to the forest, all fears the storm brewing, my love.’
‘Do you fear the storm?’
‘No. I have more to fear than the birds.’ She answered simply, not taking her eyes from the bleak scene before her. He nodded slowly.
‘Tell me more.’
‘The sea is oily black, far from the blue that you love. The remains of a boat are being battered to the rocks, the owner has long run to his home in the village, he fears the storm too. Where the sea meets the sky is dark as night, thunder and lightning crash in the distance, a great wind is blowing somewhere off the coast, but does not reach us. It will, my love, and knock the trees from their sandy posts, they tremble loosely even now in this light wind, they’ll not last long. Nothing shall last long in that storm, my love. Not the trees, not the animals, nothing. The lighthouse stands still alone, it is strong, but also old, and long evacuated. There is no life to be seen, but you and I.’
‘Then take me.’ He said finally, forming the picture in his mind as she spoke. ‘Take me to the silvery sands.’ She was his guide, and his eyes. His companion, his only true friend. The only one willing to take him, when no one else would go. The only one who would understand. And even she was reluctant. Her slender arm hooked itself about his waist again, and she carefully guided his feet to the slippery rocks, holding him steady when he fell, and easing him towards the next. His slippers would not grip the rocks, sliding over them, threatening a fall which would end his life for sure, but she held true. She would not let him fall. Together they descended, walking out onto the sand in smooth easy steps, the difficult rocks left behind them. He stopped, and turned, facing the way they came.
‘Tell me of where we came from,’ he asked, and she turned with him, her clear eyes taking in the beautiful, yet cold scenery about them. She shivered slightly, the air was growing colder, they both could smell the storm, and knew it was coming fast. The first few drops of rain hit the white linen shoulders of his night-shirt, his wrinkles creased into an expression of anxiety, and she obeyed.
‘The rocks are dark with water, my love. It has already been raining, and starts again now. Over the rocks, the sky glares at me, the towers are easily visible, huge black pillars against the white and grey sky. Small shrubs are shivering in the light rain, soon to be flooded out. No one has come looking for us, there are no faces staring over the top as there once was, no one saw us leave. The largest tree has dropped a branch in the wind, it tumbles further down the rocks, dashing itself as it falls to the sand. One of your slippers stands out like a snowball on the black rocks, did you wish me to retrieve it?’
‘No,’ he replied after a moments thought. ‘Remove the other. I should like to feel the sand between my toes.’ Nodding, she allowed the old man to lean his weight on her to lift his other foot, while she slipped his foot out of the cumbersome shoe. ‘What of the beach now, my love? Must I be careful of the broken shells? Or have only the whole and beautiful ones been washed to the shore?’
‘The shells are broken, my love.’ She said sadly, scanning the beach once more. ‘The whitest ones glint like sharpened teeth, waiting to bite. The dark ones dot the sands like innocent traps, disguising themselves as harmless leaf and twig, fear not, my love, for I see them all.’ Her voice was confident, but the hand that held his was not. She shook with the cold, and trembled with fear.
‘Then steer me on, dear one. I wish to reach the sea before the storm.’ The wind was coming towards them now, the rough salt wind stinging her eyes, bringing blinding tears, she forced her eyelids open to continue, wishing she’d not taken pity on the poor man. But how could she have done any different? He had been a man of life, not a man to stay his time in bed.
The loneliness attacked him, and she had been his companion. The blindness had set in, and she had been his eyes. The age had worn him down, and she had been his youth. Now, she would be much more. Quietly she led him across the beach until the water lapped at their feet, cold and chilling, her numbed feet hardly felt it. He did not shirk the icy water, merely stepped in further.
‘Take me in, and tell me of the sea.’ He asked as she stepped in beside him her feet sinking in the grainy sand. She pulled them out, and guided him further in, the black murky waters rising higher about their legs until it reached above her midriff.
‘The water is still dark, my love, and not clear. The murk of the sands is stirred in to make the salty sea opaque. I can go no further, for the bottom drops out suddenly, plunging into an underwater chasm many times the size of myself. Many of these exist around us, though the tide pulls us ever closer, I fear to go any further. I cannot hold us both. The storm is drawing near, it will not be long now.’
‘Quickly then,’ he said softly, turning about in her arms to cup her chin in one hand. ‘Tell me of my love. How is she?’ his fingers ran against her smooth cheek, knowing it would be as smooth and soft as it had ever been, her face as perfectly unlined, her eyes as clear. He did not require her eyes.
‘She is crying.’ She answered, a silent tear rolling down her pale cheek. ‘She wishes that your happiness did not cost so much, but she will do what is needed of her, my love, for she loves you. For though the outside man has aged, though his eyes see nothing, and though he is now weakened, she knows that he will always be her own, and she will always love him. Such is her despair.’
‘She is a true friend, a brave and wonderful woman. Do not despair for me. Love is everlasting.’ Drawing his sodden love closer, he kissed her gently, brushing away the tears with his wrinkled thumb. ‘Farewell, my love.’
‘Farewell.’ She echoed, feeling his hold on her lessen, and he slipped silently into the black waters, white nightshirt billowing out among the swirling currents. Slowly, she turned, and dragged herself back towards the shore, climbing the rocks as the rain hit hard, pelting her from behind with large raindrops and hailstones. Quietly, she stood safe upon the rocky cliff, watching the dark sea as it rolled itself back towards the shore. Through the rain, her eyes blinked, catching a glimpse of the white shirt rolling on the waves, dashing against the rocks around the lighthouse. She knelt, and bent her head to the ground. Tears slipped into the soaking sand unnoticed.
‘I shall wait, my love.’ She promised the earth, wind and sea. ‘Until I can again tell you of the silver storm.’
‘Not yet, my love.’ He said, his sightless eyes gazing out over the coastline, trying to imagine what was there. Obediently the girl stopped, holding his frail body against her, the path was difficult and steep, guiding the old man wasn’t easy, she took the rest gratefully. Anything to delay arrival. Her eyes too surveyed the coast, but she saw. Beside her, he cleared his throat. ‘Tell it to me, my dear. Tell me what you see. What does it look like? I taste the sea, but feel no sun. Why?’
‘The sky is overcast, my love.’ She replied quietly. ‘You feel no sun, because it is not there. It has gone to hide behind the clouds, which will surely cry out their storm as I return. The tide has just gone out, the beach is a silvery grey, the birds have taken to the forest, all fears the storm brewing, my love.’
‘Do you fear the storm?’
‘No. I have more to fear than the birds.’ She answered simply, not taking her eyes from the bleak scene before her. He nodded slowly.
‘Tell me more.’
‘The sea is oily black, far from the blue that you love. The remains of a boat are being battered to the rocks, the owner has long run to his home in the village, he fears the storm too. Where the sea meets the sky is dark as night, thunder and lightning crash in the distance, a great wind is blowing somewhere off the coast, but does not reach us. It will, my love, and knock the trees from their sandy posts, they tremble loosely even now in this light wind, they’ll not last long. Nothing shall last long in that storm, my love. Not the trees, not the animals, nothing. The lighthouse stands still alone, it is strong, but also old, and long evacuated. There is no life to be seen, but you and I.’
‘Then take me.’ He said finally, forming the picture in his mind as she spoke. ‘Take me to the silvery sands.’ She was his guide, and his eyes. His companion, his only true friend. The only one willing to take him, when no one else would go. The only one who would understand. And even she was reluctant. Her slender arm hooked itself about his waist again, and she carefully guided his feet to the slippery rocks, holding him steady when he fell, and easing him towards the next. His slippers would not grip the rocks, sliding over them, threatening a fall which would end his life for sure, but she held true. She would not let him fall. Together they descended, walking out onto the sand in smooth easy steps, the difficult rocks left behind them. He stopped, and turned, facing the way they came.
‘Tell me of where we came from,’ he asked, and she turned with him, her clear eyes taking in the beautiful, yet cold scenery about them. She shivered slightly, the air was growing colder, they both could smell the storm, and knew it was coming fast. The first few drops of rain hit the white linen shoulders of his night-shirt, his wrinkles creased into an expression of anxiety, and she obeyed.
‘The rocks are dark with water, my love. It has already been raining, and starts again now. Over the rocks, the sky glares at me, the towers are easily visible, huge black pillars against the white and grey sky. Small shrubs are shivering in the light rain, soon to be flooded out. No one has come looking for us, there are no faces staring over the top as there once was, no one saw us leave. The largest tree has dropped a branch in the wind, it tumbles further down the rocks, dashing itself as it falls to the sand. One of your slippers stands out like a snowball on the black rocks, did you wish me to retrieve it?’
‘No,’ he replied after a moments thought. ‘Remove the other. I should like to feel the sand between my toes.’ Nodding, she allowed the old man to lean his weight on her to lift his other foot, while she slipped his foot out of the cumbersome shoe. ‘What of the beach now, my love? Must I be careful of the broken shells? Or have only the whole and beautiful ones been washed to the shore?’
‘The shells are broken, my love.’ She said sadly, scanning the beach once more. ‘The whitest ones glint like sharpened teeth, waiting to bite. The dark ones dot the sands like innocent traps, disguising themselves as harmless leaf and twig, fear not, my love, for I see them all.’ Her voice was confident, but the hand that held his was not. She shook with the cold, and trembled with fear.
‘Then steer me on, dear one. I wish to reach the sea before the storm.’ The wind was coming towards them now, the rough salt wind stinging her eyes, bringing blinding tears, she forced her eyelids open to continue, wishing she’d not taken pity on the poor man. But how could she have done any different? He had been a man of life, not a man to stay his time in bed.
The loneliness attacked him, and she had been his companion. The blindness had set in, and she had been his eyes. The age had worn him down, and she had been his youth. Now, she would be much more. Quietly she led him across the beach until the water lapped at their feet, cold and chilling, her numbed feet hardly felt it. He did not shirk the icy water, merely stepped in further.
‘Take me in, and tell me of the sea.’ He asked as she stepped in beside him her feet sinking in the grainy sand. She pulled them out, and guided him further in, the black murky waters rising higher about their legs until it reached above her midriff.
‘The water is still dark, my love, and not clear. The murk of the sands is stirred in to make the salty sea opaque. I can go no further, for the bottom drops out suddenly, plunging into an underwater chasm many times the size of myself. Many of these exist around us, though the tide pulls us ever closer, I fear to go any further. I cannot hold us both. The storm is drawing near, it will not be long now.’
‘Quickly then,’ he said softly, turning about in her arms to cup her chin in one hand. ‘Tell me of my love. How is she?’ his fingers ran against her smooth cheek, knowing it would be as smooth and soft as it had ever been, her face as perfectly unlined, her eyes as clear. He did not require her eyes.
‘She is crying.’ She answered, a silent tear rolling down her pale cheek. ‘She wishes that your happiness did not cost so much, but she will do what is needed of her, my love, for she loves you. For though the outside man has aged, though his eyes see nothing, and though he is now weakened, she knows that he will always be her own, and she will always love him. Such is her despair.’
‘She is a true friend, a brave and wonderful woman. Do not despair for me. Love is everlasting.’ Drawing his sodden love closer, he kissed her gently, brushing away the tears with his wrinkled thumb. ‘Farewell, my love.’
‘Farewell.’ She echoed, feeling his hold on her lessen, and he slipped silently into the black waters, white nightshirt billowing out among the swirling currents. Slowly, she turned, and dragged herself back towards the shore, climbing the rocks as the rain hit hard, pelting her from behind with large raindrops and hailstones. Quietly, she stood safe upon the rocky cliff, watching the dark sea as it rolled itself back towards the shore. Through the rain, her eyes blinked, catching a glimpse of the white shirt rolling on the waves, dashing against the rocks around the lighthouse. She knelt, and bent her head to the ground. Tears slipped into the soaking sand unnoticed.
‘I shall wait, my love.’ She promised the earth, wind and sea. ‘Until I can again tell you of the silver storm.’