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bvchambers13 # Posted on March 29, 2013 at 12:37 am

The Place Between Now and the Ever

Long shadows were cast from the back porch light into the field. The tall grass shimmered and shifted in the moonlight. The midnight breeze glided along, seaspray whispered in after it. The peepers fell into a lull allowing the faint static beat of the sea in. It called to us.
The gravel road crunched under our bare feet, the moon sailed across the distant water. We walked side by side silently, slipping away from the world into the calm embrace of the ever. The beach glimmered with each step, an explosion of light to rival the stars hanging overhead. The ancient, timeless roll of the waves continued. We sat side by side silently, twenty toes in the sand.
What we experienced had gone on since before there were words and will continue long after the last words are spoken.
You sighed contentedly next to me. Your dim silhouette was gently backlit by moon shine. Your soft brown curls were gently tousled by the same wind that mingled with your scent. Sand and salt and summer. Lilac and woodsmoke too. Your thin summer dress billowed out beneath you. A splendor in the sand. We sat; whispering quietly, as moments turned to memories and hours passed.
The ink of the eastern sky shifted slowly, passing through shades indescribable. The early morning glow revealed hidden details. The outlines of shells and the shapes of clouds, the lines on your face and the surf crashing onto a far off sandbar. Shades of black and grey slowly slid into a palette of colors.
Your pale blue dress matched the new sky. Your dark green eyes contained the same essence as the rolling sea. The morning light revealed the soft curve of your lips and gentle smile. Birds announced the dawn with a medley of songs as our little piece of the world began to wake.
If we get only one memory to carry with us as we pass into the ever then I claim this one. If I had only that one then it wouldn’t be spoiled by the memories that come after.
You left later that day while I was out. There was no warning, no rhyme or reason for it. I returned to our small rented place to find it empty. Not empty in the sense of things, but empty in the sense of you. The closet you had taken over was bare; the hangers still seemed to be swinging, mocking. There was a note tucked under the vase of flowers I had picked for you the day before. I sat and stared at it for hours as the clock on the bedside table ticked on and on and on.
I couldn’t look at that note, it would make everything real. If I read it the connection I still felt to you would be severed immediately. That day passed in a haze, I was trapped in that room, your note glaring at me.
The next day was much the same, though my numbness and shock was slowly replaced by a growing rage, born of confusion and loss.
The flowers were wilted and dry when I finally unfolded that scrap of paper. What it said makes no matter, all notes of that nature contain the same hollow platitudes.