Refuge

Refuge

March 06, 2016 - 107 words


She lay on her back in the dark, shallow water, spread out like a supine starfish as the small waves rolled over her thin form. The festival’s muted sounds traveled down the shoreline. Its dim light reflected in the eddies like an otherworldly special effect.

She floated for half an hour, awash in the ocean’s salty tang and the memories of a previous life. She lay weightless, lost, seeking. Her mother was worried. Her father dead. Her daughter a fantasy and her diary in tatters.

She gazed at the stars, unblinking. Sometimes they offered guidance. Tonight they only gazed back. Her tears blended into the salty sea.