Sunday, January 13, 2013

The meanest thing anyone has ever said to you

"That was uncalled for,"  I said.

"Why?  Because it's not true or you just don't want to admit that it IS true?" Jack said.

"Do you think it's true?" I asked.

There was a long pause while he clearly considered his answer.  I turned my head, looking out the car window at the dark, foggy beach.  Mist swirled up from the nearly still water like disco wraiths.  The sky looked like a fortune teller's ball, lit up from within by the hidden moon.

Unwilling to wait any longer for his answer, I opened the door and stepped out of the car.  I unstrapped my sandals and walked out onto the sand.  On the surface, it was cool and crisp.  I paused, wiggling my toes down below the veneer.  The sand here was still moist from the tide hours before.  This inside sand was warm.  I imagined that Jack was warm under his skin, too.

I walked to the edge of the sand and the sea.  My feet were touching earth, water, and sky.  All it needed was the fire.  I sat, and lay back on the beach.  My feet submerged, my head dry.  I thought I could lay here until the tide returned.  Maybe I would drift out to sea, coming to rest on some far off island where the fire lived.

"I'm sorry I said it.  It's not true," I heard from above. 

 I tipped my head back to look up at Jack, and held out my icy hand to him.

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