Take These Broken Wings.
all your life.
It took all she had not to scratch the newly inked spot around her wrist, instead biting her lip to the point where a metallic taste touched her tongue, causing her mouth to water. Now sucking on her lower lip, she tried to distract herself from the irritable itch that wouldn’t leave her alone as she awaited Zoe’s arrival at their usual spot on the beach.
The sand shifting between her toes as Marley wiggled them; she jumped slightly when Zoe sat beside her, coming out of seemingly nowhere. “What was it that you called me out here for?” She asked with a playful grin.
Holding up her right hand, she twisted her hand a little to display the anchor that was on her wrist, the chain coiling around a couple times. Zoe’s face lit up as she saw it, commenting on how it was simple but she adored it.
“If you don’t mind me asking, though, why an anchor?” She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Marley looked down, cradling her wrist in her other palm, the crave for an itch subsiding. Zoe could almost instantly guess where it’d lead to—one of two topics.
“You know how badly I want to be a sailor..” Marley began, but trailed off, instead leading to something else. “Tommy had an anchor, on his bicep.”
Her expression melding from excitement to admiration, she murmured an “Oh?” Marley was becoming more and more comfortable talking about her deceased brother around her. Even after a year and a few months, Marley still had trouble talking about Tommy in more than just a few words. But given how close they were, Zoe understood this, though from what she’s heard of Tommy, from both Marley and her family, Tommy seemed like a very honest, admirable person, friend, and brother.
Marley nodded. “Since the chain doesn’t connect to anything again, I thought it’d show the sparrows aren’t weighed down..” softly, she explained the process of what she thought the tattoos represented. “They’re free, wings broken or spread in flight.”
The sand shifting between her toes as Marley wiggled them; she jumped slightly when Zoe sat beside her, coming out of seemingly nowhere. “What was it that you called me out here for?” She asked with a playful grin.
Holding up her right hand, she twisted her hand a little to display the anchor that was on her wrist, the chain coiling around a couple times. Zoe’s face lit up as she saw it, commenting on how it was simple but she adored it.
“If you don’t mind me asking, though, why an anchor?” She asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Marley looked down, cradling her wrist in her other palm, the crave for an itch subsiding. Zoe could almost instantly guess where it’d lead to—one of two topics.
“You know how badly I want to be a sailor..” Marley began, but trailed off, instead leading to something else. “Tommy had an anchor, on his bicep.”
Her expression melding from excitement to admiration, she murmured an “Oh?” Marley was becoming more and more comfortable talking about her deceased brother around her. Even after a year and a few months, Marley still had trouble talking about Tommy in more than just a few words. But given how close they were, Zoe understood this, though from what she’s heard of Tommy, from both Marley and her family, Tommy seemed like a very honest, admirable person, friend, and brother.
Marley nodded. “Since the chain doesn’t connect to anything again, I thought it’d show the sparrows aren’t weighed down..” softly, she explained the process of what she thought the tattoos represented. “They’re free, wings broken or spread in flight.”