Poseidon

Éxi

4 years later

My black coat cloaks me, hides me in the swarm of people. My face is hidden behind a wall of hair, I like it this way, this way no one talks to me, no one notices me and no one asks me about myself. The leaves on the trees are just beginning to turn as I walk down the street. I breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of salt in the air, it wraps itself in my mind burrowing itself deep in its recesses, it begins to whisper to me to go forward, to go forward to the sea. I have avoided the sea and shore at all costs in the past 4 years, I feel that if I were to even place one toe on the beach I would shatter my weak shell, the shell that protects my story and myself from-nope not going there. I gaze forward and look out onto the beach, the waves roll and wash up the beach. As if entranced I walk forward, down onto the beach. I kick my shoes off and sink my feet into the sand. I surprise myself with not cracking my shell. The sea once again beckons me forward. I submit to it and step into the sea allowing it to wash over me, calming my every nerve. A deep, contented sigh escapes my lips as I close my eyes and let the feeling of belonging wash over me with every wave on my feet.

Walking into my bathroom I strip off my black attire and step into the shower, washing the sand and salt off my feet, the act so simple yet so known my me that I could do it with my eyes closed, still, after all this time. I find myself wondering why I left it so long as I stand with the water cascading over me, I wonder why I prohibited myself from the sea.

After finishing washing, I gather all my clothes and throw them into the washing basket, a trail of sand behind me. I sigh and go to grab the sweeping brush to tidy it up; as much as I love the sand I cannot stand it in the house. As I walk toward my cleaning cupboard a shrill sound echoes through the apartment, I jump the sound causing me to freeze. As it sounds again I realize that it is the sound of the bell. I buzz them up. Only seconds later a knock sounds at the door. Curiosity causes me to step cautiously towards the door.