Thursday, February 3, 2011

Wishing For the Cliff

It was a gloomy and chilli winter afternoon. It was going to get dark soon. She looked at herself in the mirror as she zipped her jacket up slowly toward her neck. Her eyes had dark shadows around them, her cheek bones more pronounced. She didn't smile at the picture in the mirror. Just looked at her blankly. The zipper was all the way up. She just turned away from the picture, opened the door, and stepped out to the gray late afternoon.
It was the most boring drive to the coast. She couldn't listen to music, nothing fancy her desires. News and talk shows sounded even more boring. She just concentrated on her drive, and the pinkish gray sky. The sun was setting behind the hills.
The waves were crashing to the cliffs. The sun was kissing the ocean goodnight. She thought the sun always looked sad leaving, as if it was not sure it will be dawning again the next morning. As if it was the last sunset.
She sat on a cliff and hugged her elbows hunching down sniffing her running nose up. She wished for a shawl or a blanket. He would never forget one.
She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them now, just watched the setting sun and the sky with varying colors. It was a melancholy moment. She wished for God.
She felt a tightness in her chest and tried to inhale more forcefully but it didn't help.
The sound of the crashing waves appeared louder and louder as it got darker and darker. She bent her head on her knees and cried. No force to let them out of her tightened chest, no force to keep them up. She just cried.
It was completely dark now. Only the light of the nearby street was faintly reflecting on the border between the land and the waves.
She wished for a cup of steaming hot tea.
He threw a blanket on her shoulders, hugging her from behind helping to warm her up with the heat of his manly body. "I knew I could find you here" he whispered in her ear.
The crashing sound of the waves continued through the cold winter night.

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An emigrant from an ancient civilization to North America, an engineer in marketing and management, a mom of working kind, who thinks when she talks, and who likes to write. I, L.B., own the copyright to the content.