Passing

And I watch out over the sea. The wind is hot, whipping my white sundress behind me and my long hair billows out behind me. My feet are bare, parked on the burning pavement; by the time I leave, my feet will be as red as strawberries. The sun beats down on me, seeping into my skin until my cheeks are rosy and tight. Children play on the grass down the hill, throwing balls and screaming to each other and running around like puppies. There’s a tree down there with cool shade but I won’t leave you and the sea.

And I watch out over the sea. The sun is cool, kind on my skin. A thin jacket wraps around my shoulders, protecting me from the sometimes-cool, sometimes-hot breeze. I’m sitting on the pavement and watching the grayish clouds in the distance threaten me with icy raindrops that will penetrate my skin when they fall. The tree down the hill is a beautiful sight, red and yellow and brown and orange leaves falling like rainbow tears. And rainbow tears fall from my face too. It would be like magic under the tree but I won’t leave you and the sea.

And I watch out over the sea. I’m shivering, pulling my thick jumper tight to try to fight the icy cold. My toes are curling in my boots, my cheeks rosy as the wind slaps me in the face. Everyone is either snug in their heated houses or stupidly fighting the cold for some unknown reason. The sun is hiding from me behind the bland sky, turning its face away in sorrow, for the veil between me and the memories is thinner on a day like this. My teeth start to chatter but I won’t leave you and the sea.

And I watch out over the sea. The flowers start to bloom, red and purple and a rainbow of other colours joining the deep green of the grass in a melody for my eyes. I can wear my favourite sundress again without it being sweltering hot. The balance is perfect between hot and cold; the world is waking from its slumber again. I kneel down in the soft carpet, neglecting the pavement, and listen to the birds squawk as they fly. The sun’s warmth blends with the cool wind, so perfectly together, and I won’t leave you and the sea.

And I watch out over the sea. The seasons pass like days and the years like weeks. I watch from beside the weathered stone marking where you lay. I give you the wish you uttered to me with your dying breath, asking me with a voice so wretched to look after your deserted love. So I do, looking after the water with an urgency no one understands. And then I hear a whisper on the wind, carried to me like a baby, sighing, I do love the sea but I meant you. But I won’t leave you and the sea.