A Dying Wish

 

 

 

 

 

He stood at the edge of the cliff staring out at the Western shore.

He watched the waves and the pallid sea foam wash over the massive rocks strewn below.

The evening sky rippled with stunning hues of blue and pink, reflected on the water, as the sun slowly descended on the horizon.

The sunset brought a sense of stillness, yet at the same time a sagacity of pain.

He took a deep breath as his passionate russet colored eyes took in the display before him.

He slowly exhaled, feeling the weight of what he was about to do.

 ‘She would have wanted to see this’, he thought.

A slow melody, in step with the resonance of the sea, played in his spirit knowing her dreams would finally come true.

He picked up the adorned vase carefully, as if it was made of paper.

“My baby.” He paused.

“I’m letting go now.” He gazed at the horizon looking for a sign she was present somehow.

“I promised to bring you home to the lands of your ancestors.”

“I wish you could be here to see it.”

“I know it’s everything you dreamed it would be.”

He felt his heart rise up into his throat.

As the wind blustered through his hair and caressed his face, he pulled the vase into his bosom and started down the paths that led to the sea shore.

On his descent he couldn’t maintain his composure any longer. He let the tears flow freely.

When he finally set his feet in the sand, he imagined bagpipes in the distance hum a somber tune.

And for a brief moment he could see her standing on the shore laughing and giggling like a child, filled with unadulterated elation at touching the ancient waters of Ireland.

He could see her long golden hair dance in the breeze around her face.

She would look back at him, a blissful childlike smile on her face like the one she always bestowed when her heart was bursting. He could see her touching the sand and rubbing it between her fingers to explore every single element of her new found adulation.

And for a moment he just stood there and stared at her. She was so beautiful in those moments, permitting her inner child to emerge. That is why he loved her so much. Her countenance was that of innocence. He wanted to run to her and sweep her up in his arms one more time, to breathe in the fragrance of her hair and feel her breath against his face.

He stood for a while not really sure how to proceed. He’d never done this before and he wasn’t sure if she could see him. He hoped she was watching, listening to his words and knowing his heart.

He walked to the salty water’s edge, lifted the urn up high it the air as if to make a toast and

softly, in almost a whisper, he said,

“Be free, baby.”

 And he tipped the urn to let the ashes fall from the container.

The wind caught them and wisped the ashes in the wind falling all around him, in the water and everywhere. He looked high up into the sky and smiled. It was the last thing he would be able to do for her.

 

Reviews

[EMF]

Firstly, I loved it. Not that I'm an old sentamentalist or anything. But it was beautifully done and sensitivley handled. There were a couple of places though I did wonder if you could have used a different word. In the second line, 'crashed' instead of 'colide' for example. However as the story went on I became lost in both the story and your use of language. When a skilled poet begins to wrote a story then cannot help their poetical skills being applied. The language and form take control and produce a prose work that is as beautiful and tactile as it gets. The end result, a simple story becomes multi layered.
And again...you have here a hook to another story, should you wish it, without simple tricks, you engage your reader from the first and draw them so deeply into your world that they become lost. Pure joy. Truly wonderful.

Well... I liked it.

[Rorafael]

Beautiful story that draws the reader in. I kept going with the flow of your words although there were a few that could be replaced with better ones (like collide) or even dropped to enhance the whole. Tighter phrases are sometimes richer than using too many words to colour the picture. Think of how a black & white photo can sometimes capture a scene better that a colour one - its down to texture.

But as a poet you have a sense of the power of words already just remember that sometimes less is more.

In the final analysis you have a gem waiting for that final polish.

[Emma Berman]

Very purple prose.

Make sure you don't prioritize phonetics in front of what makes sense. For example, I bet you phrased the second line because you thought it sounded best like that.

However, collide is a wierd word there and it also is in the present tense while it should be in the past tense.

Waves create sea foam. Why are you making them into seperate elements?


Perhaps take out some adjectives and adverbs, then you can be lavender.

[V.J.C.]

I really liked this story, sad as it may be. Thank you for the read.

[Jose merciline]

Awesome love it to the core keep writing

[Dean Kuch®]

As I read this touching and captivating story, I knew that although "she" was not there in body..."she" was indeed there, beyond a shadow of a doubt...she was there....

[Forest Green]

Such acts of devotion; true to the bitter, or the lonely, end. How life can be distilled down to a petri dish of metal salts to be sprinkled out and redissolved into the ocean....and absolute mystery and indeed, as your character is described experience, a sagacity of pain.

You have truly chosen a challenging subject to write about...and written about it very well, with sincerity of feeling...beautifully..

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed this story. I'm Native American. I desire to become part of the Western sea one day in a burning flame to join lost friends. I like the thoughts and the desire of this story. When we leave this life. The good deeds and laughter we caused will be remembered.
"He wanted to run to her and sweep her up in his arms one more time, to breathe in the fragrance of her hair and feel her breath against his face."
I like the ending. Allow her to become one with the breeze and the sea. So when you desire. Can come back and feel her presence. Thank you for the outstanding story. Make me think too much.
Coyote

[Distant horizons]

Beautiful. Bringing her home.

[Rusty]

This is incredible. Bravo! Bravo!

What an intelligent, deep and moving write.

Thank you for sharing it.