Unity
‘I once owned a sailboat. In the evening sun we would ride on a dream, the mist of the sea carelessly caressing our sunburnt skin. And after we would dock. The night stars were mirrored on a monsoon of water and ice and we would sit on the edge for hours; hoping that today the sun wouldn’t rise. Let us have this night, let us keep this night. All the while the waves disfigured our beloved lights, like a living painting of a star struck sea in the middle of a stormy fight. Why can’t the sea stand still? The stars forever painted on the night sky. The stars were still, still in the sky. Years away not knowing the distorted fate their future held, yet dead, to us, in the past. Ash. Dead in the past. Ash.’
“Do you remember when we were in the isles? There was that tale that the locals would tell the children, that there is a certain breeze that breaks the winter and brings the sun, but this wind only comes if you act right and true toward difficult situations. You have to act right.” “Poetry huh?” laughed Numah who was leaning against an eroded wooden pole that was tightly tied to the ever swaying dock in the ocean shallows. “It’s too cold for poetry,” said Numah smiling. “But do you remember Numah?” asked Se’jus turning from the sea and swinging her legs from over the side of the dock toward Numah, finally resting against an adjacent pillar. Numah, still smiling, turned his head toward the sea as if avoiding the question.
Numah loved Se’jus, there wasn’t any question about that. There were days that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her, the way her sunset hair gently blew in the breeze on the days they would sail. And on those days her smile would destroy him, turn him into a pile of beautiful ruins. A smile sitting on her rose colored lips extending to her sky blue eyes. But there were also days he couldn’t look at her at all. The shame of not being able to live up to all she was, she was his miracle.
“No,” said Numah softly lowering his head, “I don’t remember.” Numah remembered the day probably better than Se’jus, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it, cause once the clouds are unlocked, the flood awaits. That day meant something to them that Numah tried to ignore, he couldn’t acknowledge the tale for all it meant.
“It’s getting really cold out here Se’jus, you don’t have to sit with me, we probably should go in anyway, it’s a foggy evening- the moon won’t give us much guidance tonight.” “I love it out here at night” said Se’jus, “ the way the stars reflect on the waves, a million miles away, yet right on the threshold of in reach.” There was a strange silence between the two, as if the very thought of them touching the stars had sent them into a solitary sleep, but so awake; an
awakening that was remote and spacious and filled their souls with a longing that was in itself desired.
But just as sudden as the space had surrounded them, Numah broke it with a certain voracity that lingered long after he left. Quickly getting up on the dock, Numah said, “No stars tonight dear, just fog, I’ll go start the fire.” The solemn setting was rattled by Numah’s ever decrepit will. The sea seemed sorry to let Numah go, and made quite a scene under the dock, shaking Se’jus as Numah walked to the cottage. The wind also joined in the protest and moved the seas in soft rebellion. Se’jus sat. Looking from her husband to the rocky sea, she watched the waves turn white under the winds confidence. Perhaps the rain is coming. The storm had already begun.