Seabound

I awoke to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. I abruptly sat up, breathing hard, still reeling from the all too realistic dream. Slowly I moved to dangle my legs off the edge of my bedside. I hesitated a moment before slipping out of my warm covers, straight brown blond hair clinging to my shoulders and falling down around the small of my back. I approach the window rapidly, yet almost reluctantly. I stand before the curtains closed, I can hear the sound of the storm raging on the beach, just a few blocks away. In a single quick movement I pull the curtains aside to gaze at the beautiful lightning dancing across the skies. The dark, heavy storm clouds hung ominously above. Blanketing the world in the thick shadow of night. Even from within the quarters of my beach house, safe and warm I could feel the calling. The flash of the lightning, the sound of the booming thunder and crashing waves, the smell of the sea, the touch of the coarse but smooth sand on my feet, I could feel it all, almost like I was there. I inhaled sharply and shut my eyes, pulling away from the window. I was panting, my heart beating rapidly. I went to my closet and fumbled around for my boots. Finding them, I clumsily stuffed my feet in, not bothering to put on socks or change out of my nightgown. I cast on last glance at the window, at the winds that had just begun. Then I turned on my heel and quickly pattered out of my room, running down the hall. I only spared a glance at the closed doors, guarding the empty guest rooms in which my family had stayed in when they had come to visit, just a few weeks ago. The stairs flew by under my feet as I sped down. My hair trailing behind me. I swiftly moved across the tilled floor of my kitchen, almost gliding. The back door flew open at barely a touch of my hand, almost of its own accord. I rushed outside and spun around to look up at the sky. The wind was truly raging now, it whipped around me tugging, pulling me toward my destination. The air was slightly warm, a little bit humid, but not in the least cold. Almost a comforting warmth, yet mysterious as well. I revolved slowly to face the path, worn and beaten, covered with leaves fallen from the trees that hung closely overhead. Swaying in the gusts. I started walking, slowly and purposefully. I halted for only a moment when the small garden path connecting my little beach house to the rest of the world ended, joining the long, wide, and dusty, main road that exhibited other beach houses, owned by other people, all gone away, of to their busy lives. My boots scrapping lightly across the dusty ground. The wind swirling about me, beckoning. Inviting me into it. My hair flew and spun about me, tangling and untangling. Whipping across my face, yet I made no movement to pull it back. My thin, plain, white nightgown blew about in the gust. The wind played with its lace edges pulling me along. I stared down the road, which ended at the beach. I could see the huge storm clouds gathered around the shore. The lightning playing through the sky, every now and then streaking down from the heavens. I continued my silent, solitary, march. My boots touched the sand. I bent down and removed them so that I was wearing nothing but my nightgown. I slowly placed one foot in front of the other, toes sinking lightly into the sand. I stand in the middle of the beach with the storm raging around me. There is a strange kind of tension in the air, like a held and waiting breath. I slowly close my eyes and raise my arms above my head. For a moment I just stay like that, memories of my dream- my vision- coming back. And then my feet began to move. I start slowly, but pick up speed, until I’m spinning and twirling in an endless dance of the land, sky, and sea.