But they have not forgotten about me, and while lost in
my reverie, a wave crashes over me and instantly chills me to the bone. Now I must pay for wasting time. Then the wind joins in and whips against my
soaked pants, laughing as I tremble in the biting cold.
“Is this how you always were?” I angrily ask the
ocean. “Back when I loved you in the
summer, is this how you were??”
“Most likely,” he responds.
“But you seemed kinder then and playful and full of
hidden shells and treasures.” And now I am
sad for the realization before me.
“You cannot be such a cold and biting creature,” I say. “I will not believe you are such a cold and
biting creature!”
“Look again, girl,” he says. But I back up, having belatedly regained the
tiniest bit of common sense.
November and her soldiers begin to conspire against
me. The wind whips and mocks me, singing,
“Ring around the rosie, a pocket full of posies! Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!”
And I wonder why I would have been so foolish to have
come so far down the shore on my own.
The sun darts behind the blackened clouds, which he had promised to
vanquish. What a liar. He was always such a liar. I look for the travelers on horseback, but they have
already disappeared, having quite the advantage of speed.
It is two miles back at least, and the day ends very
early now. I start walking. Shivering.
I would follow my own footsteps back, but the ocean has already eaten
them. He has always had a monstrous
appetite. Now I must remember which
outcrop of beach grass I came out from when I first arrived. They all look the same, though. My legs are cold, but I do not see many
choices before me, so I will keep walking.
I ignore the ocean when he asks me if I want to come for a swim, but he
knows that I hear him.
“Just a quick swim,” the ocean teases, and I am not sure
if it is gulls hovering overhead or vultures.
And in the great scheme of things, I do not think it matters much
anyhow.
“Just a quick swim,” the wind laughs as it whips the
salty ocean spray into my hair. The gulls
are circling now, following their own hidden currents of desire.
Just a quick swim, I think to myself. A final swim.
It is just too easy, though, far too easy. And I shan’t have things be that easy.
The court assembles.
Kings and Knights everywhere you look, and I am the only pawn. The wind grows stronger, and I keep walking. I am on my own with raw November.
