Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Vera loved the beach. She often slipped away unnoticed from her friends to a secret rendezvous with the sand. She etched out hearts on the malleable surface of homeless pinpoints irretrievably separated from the where of their birth and the what of their existence. As she placed her hand in the heart she sensed the nearby warmth of the summer sea, a confirmation of the sand's love for her. It had been some seasons now, and the initial pain had seeped away. Only the love remained, and that was as everlasting as a human being could will it to be. She thought of him over and over, thoughts cycling in serene concordance with the tide caressing the shore. He had died so young. And this was the place they scattered his ashes.