Status: Updates Aug. 10 - Aug. 14
At the Edge
I Would Die Without
It was raining when Arthur tried to count again. The raindrops pounding against him eased his ability to sense any other movement out of his hands. He tried to count but stopped when he heard the thunder.
The rain was heavy but it wasn’t accompanied by the sudden flashes of lightning that Arthur impossibly still remembered. The sand turned into a wave-washed beach under Arthur’s feet, the sand sucking him in so that every step became a yank and a fall.
Arthur didn’t realize he was walking on greener lands until he slipped five feet in. His face landed amongst the blades of grass and his first thought was to complain. His second was to roll them both over and open his mouth against the falling water.
He wanted to laugh when the thunder continued.
The ground was wet and the air was salty.
Arthur let out a croak of a laugh and turned himself over. He buried his face in the scratching grass. His hand ran through the soaked green and inched towards the skin beside him. Arthur’s fingers curled easily around Mary’s thin arm. He choked out her name between dry air and cold water. Her arm shook with his hand.
It was considerably easier to lift Mary’s small frame, considerably harder to count the heartbeats that should be hitting his spine. The grass slipped under him but he could still hear the thunder pounding hopefully against his ears.
It took twenty feet to get to the incline, three tries to crawl to the top, and five minutes to steadily slide down the other side onto the soaked rocks.
By the time Arthur had lowered Mary onto the final dip of the hill, his hair was sticking to his face, offering a layer of icy liquid. His lips were no longer cracked. His tongue still felt sandy but there was not a steady supply of water to heal it.
The rocks spread out in front of Arthur with sharp outcrops and tumbling rivers that caught waterfalls of rain. The thunder was almost deafening now. His feet carried him across the hard surface until the water was in front of him.
The waves crashed against the cliffs at a pounding pace. The sharp decline spun Arthur’s head until he was stumbling back in a mess of giddy laughter. His head would have cracked against the rocks if he didn’t skid when he fell. On his hands and knees, he made it back to the hill, smile still in place.
“Mary.” He pushed her shoulder, pushed her hair. “Mary.” He felt her cheek and forehead and almost retained the urge and ability to kiss a girl when he remembered to count.
His hands fell over her wrist, her neck, her chest. He tried to count but the thunder hurt his ears.
The rain was heavy but it wasn’t accompanied by the sudden flashes of lightning that Arthur impossibly still remembered. The sand turned into a wave-washed beach under Arthur’s feet, the sand sucking him in so that every step became a yank and a fall.
Arthur didn’t realize he was walking on greener lands until he slipped five feet in. His face landed amongst the blades of grass and his first thought was to complain. His second was to roll them both over and open his mouth against the falling water.
He wanted to laugh when the thunder continued.
The ground was wet and the air was salty.
Arthur let out a croak of a laugh and turned himself over. He buried his face in the scratching grass. His hand ran through the soaked green and inched towards the skin beside him. Arthur’s fingers curled easily around Mary’s thin arm. He choked out her name between dry air and cold water. Her arm shook with his hand.
It was considerably easier to lift Mary’s small frame, considerably harder to count the heartbeats that should be hitting his spine. The grass slipped under him but he could still hear the thunder pounding hopefully against his ears.
It took twenty feet to get to the incline, three tries to crawl to the top, and five minutes to steadily slide down the other side onto the soaked rocks.
By the time Arthur had lowered Mary onto the final dip of the hill, his hair was sticking to his face, offering a layer of icy liquid. His lips were no longer cracked. His tongue still felt sandy but there was not a steady supply of water to heal it.
The rocks spread out in front of Arthur with sharp outcrops and tumbling rivers that caught waterfalls of rain. The thunder was almost deafening now. His feet carried him across the hard surface until the water was in front of him.
The waves crashed against the cliffs at a pounding pace. The sharp decline spun Arthur’s head until he was stumbling back in a mess of giddy laughter. His head would have cracked against the rocks if he didn’t skid when he fell. On his hands and knees, he made it back to the hill, smile still in place.
“Mary.” He pushed her shoulder, pushed her hair. “Mary.” He felt her cheek and forehead and almost retained the urge and ability to kiss a girl when he remembered to count.
His hands fell over her wrist, her neck, her chest. He tried to count but the thunder hurt his ears.