She was as ancient as time itself. On the first day, she appeared out of the snow, a crystal statue embracing the freezing bitterness all about her, warming it slightly. After a wave of eons the winters became merciful and mild. Tree by tree a forest closed in on all sides, swelling as the air warmed. Soon the vegetation flourished on humid air that engulfed everything. She felt the wet kisses of the sauntering breeze. The jungle thrived for a time, but thinned to a prairie, revealing a sky above. The sun and moon and stars repeated their play of destiny for her again and again. Not even a god could change the outcome. Soon there was no green left, only the white sands all around, and the blue sky and the eternal woman herself. The arid wind caressed her softly but could not kiss her. Suddenly, in the distance, a section of horizon was quietly immersed by an aquamarine presence. It dilated gradually nearer. Before long it was in reach of her, the sea she had awaited past any human conception of chronology. In one beat of her heart, the entire scale of time slowed. Eons gave way to days. Others came to the sand that now embraced a sea, built fleeting castles, lay on towels, tossed Frisbees. The bikini came into the world and clothed her. A digital camera was in her hands. Now the moment had arrived. She recorded an image of the saline waters, as a souvenir of her age-long experience. By evening the tide would wash over her and she would swim in the sea she had longed for.

Story #79