Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

Chimes over water, like Christmas bells in summer; “What is it Mommy?” Chiming of ropes and tackles, wires, the song of wind and sails that long to flee. Mommy cries. “What is it Mommy?” Chimes of memory, a night on the yacht; his betrayal; her denial. She loves the child.

She walks the beach where footsteps turn to melted pools in sand. He scrabbles back. While she approaches, he, alone, retires. She’s close. He hides his heart inside the gift of her desire. She picks the shell up, holds it high and shakes. Hermit peeks out. Child screams and flees.

She wonders at the quaking in her heart, the doubts that overcome her waking hours. But on the beach her thoughts fly free as butterflies. Yes, she tells herself, she’s ready after all. She walks home with a shaking flower of love awakening her soul. “I love you,” she replies.

Laughter of children, slap of sandals on sand, slip-sliding sun-tan oil slathered on skin, and sounds of Velcro fastenings torn apart; toy-bags, beach-bags, trainers and children’s clothes... Ah yes, and the whisper of wind over sea, call of seabirds, shush of water; she heard these too while inside she silently cried; boyfriend gone; she’d never belong; always separate from it all. The cool touch of his shadow opened her eyes. “This spot taken?” He pointed beside her and she smiled. Not taken yet. Children, sandals and sunscreen might follow, but for now sweet love-birds Velcroed their hearts in the sky.