Osprey
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3694
Registered: 5-23-2004
Location: Baja Ca. Sur
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The Message
The Message
I had my head down while I walked the beach looking for shells near the lighthouse. There was some wind last night off the ocean so the line of shells
and twigs and pieces of driftwood was high above the little waves, the swath of damp sand, wide and clean and soothing to my feet.
When I saw her, when I got close, I stopped – didn’t move, couldn’t move. A woman, bent down, a tiny stick in her hand, writing a long letter in the
sand. This is such a lovely, lonely strand I was shocked to be sharing it with anyone, let alone such an interesting possibility.
Of course she knows the next tide will cancel forever what she is laboring to etch into the soft, flat shore. Whatever the words are that she commits
only to the sea they seemed to me to be the end of a long, studied message. The woman did not hesitate, neither did she rush to make a point, reach,
perhaps a little too early, a turning point in her message. The flow and purpose were one.
What love and devotion she must hold for the one who can never read her words. She cannot hold them in; once written, their memory and meaning will
never die.
Then she saw me, stood erect, stared in my direction. After an immeasurable awkwardness gripped me, then let me move, I walked toward her. She turned
to face me and shock held me again. Her face was a mask of misery – an ugly scar turned her left cheek into two uneven lumps of flesh.
Locked in the absolute vacuum of the moment I could find no comfortable place for her words.
“Bottle? Maybe papers?”
She didn’t wait for my answer, just returned to her work.
When I could move again I turned and fighting a little guilt, stole a glance or two of the message as I retreated. It was a waste. Now I wish I had
never read her filthy, if momentary, tirade.
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Pescador
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3587
Registered: 10-17-2002
Location: Baja California Sur
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I am never surprised when I read your stories as you truly have the gift, but I am still amazed that these thoughts even enter your mind. But that in
fact may be the secret, the ability to put things down that were so freely floating around up there.
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mulegemichael
Super Nomad
Posts: 2310
Registered: 12-24-2007
Location: sequim,wa. and mulege
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Mood: up on step
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jorge...sweet!
dyslexia is never having to say you\'re yrros.
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Diver
Ultra Nomad
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Thank you.
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nobaddays
Nomad
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very nice
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bajalera
Super Nomad
Posts: 1875
Registered: 10-15-2003
Location: Santa Maria CA
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Another powerful one, thanks.
\"Very few things happen at the right time, and the rest never happen at all. The conscientious historian will correct these defects.\" -
Mark Twain
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Ken Bondy
Ultra Nomad
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Registered: 12-13-2002
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You are an amazing talent Jorge. Saludos, ++Ken++
carpe diem!
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Iflyfish
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Registered: 10-17-2006
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What an amazing moment. Thanks. A great short story.
Iflyfish
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toneart
Ultra Nomad
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Registered: 7-23-2006
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Mood: Skeptical
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I see the woman as a metaphor for the way the mind sees what we want to see; the romantic vision, until/unless circumstance affords us a glimpse of
the dichotomy that may also be present. The observer must be aware and open to look.
Thank you, Osprey!
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