It prickles her palms and fingers
It prickles her palms and fingers but she doesn’t mind. Her hand flows over the harsh dry shrubs like she is caressing a lovers body. Her body moves in the same fashion, almost floating along the narrow dirt track, her bare feet leaving no trace of her passing. The birds know though. They fall silent as she passes. They couldn’t tell by just watching her, but they somehow know all the same. Something significant is happening here. Her thin white night gown, flails far too slowly in the breeze. As though time travels at a different pace around her. Slow and sad, yet beautiful. Her heart is broken, yet she is at peace. She will be with her lover soon. The scrub begins to thin and the dirt track starts changing to rock. The smell of the sea breeze washes over her. Goose bumps appear so suddenly, it is as though they were always there. She nears the edge and can hear the rumble of her blue grave. It will take her she thinks. It will swallow her whole and whisk her back into the arms of her man. She bumps a small pebble with her feet and watches it fall so far. She looks out at the horizon and smiles. The horizon smiles back at her, welcoming her. It watches as she falls. The cliff face rushing along behind her, bleak in comparison to the beautiful white visage in front of it. And she smiles all the while.
