• Final Abditory

    by  • February 10, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, Thoughts • 0 Comments

    The wind blows back her hair. It whips behind her, flowing and falling freely as her form strides elysianly along the dock. The breeze pushes the white linen dress closer to her body, the fabric near invisible, the moonlight illuminating her pale form. The stars reflect sparkling light on the lake, the world is all black and light and serene. The end of the dock- the end of her journey. This was it, her final abditory. Fingering the stones in her pocket, her feet inch closer and closer to the edge of the dock. She turns around, back to the water, and a sigh like gusts of wind escape her lips, and she looks up once more at the cosmos above her. With a single tear running down her dress, She falls backwards, arms spread, legs like a board, toes pointed, perfectly morphing her body into a straight line. She’s soaring, cutting through the air like a bird in flight. Every sound is silenced, all that could be heard was the water, and the sound of impact. Her lithe body enters the water- a splash, drops of water flying. Slowly, gently, her body sinks into the water, her white fingers still desperately curling towards the sky, searching for a reason to stay. Then, with a snap, her body relaxes, and the delicate tips of her fingers are slowly consumed by the crystal water. Then- all the world is still. Not a cricket or owl, not even a whisper. Not a scream for help, no struggle, no regrets. The ethereal one, a selcouth utopia personified, was gone without a trace.

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