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Dance on the Shore (standard:romance, 394 words)
Author: KShawAdded: Mar 03 2005Views/Reads: 3540/0Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A man's prayers answered
 



Why he had agreed to meet her he didn't know. Some longing she must have
understood; some longing he had never got quite right in his head. They 
had whispered their secrets to each other during the long nights, 
spoken of their desires, their hopes, their fantasies, like beggars in 
the world seeking crumbs of affection and saying anything to get it. 

He rose that morning and chose the denim shirt. It was old, had a tear
in the sleeve, but it was who he was and who he wanted to be. 

They would meet on the shore. And on the shore he waited. 

He remembered holding her hands, her grasp secure and warm, never
letting go, even when the terrain got tricky, she held onto him. They 
had walked across fields of grass and talked of everything under the 
sun, making each other laugh out loud and sometimes making tears of 
joy. They passed the crumbling gates of churches and hearing the dogs 
bark on faraway hillsides, walking blissfully long into the warm 
afternoon. 

He prays for a nose... for ears... for a belly as soft as the dolphins
own... for laughter that sweeps up dying leaves ... he prays for 
breasts and legs that turn to thighs and silken sighs and he prays for 
..... 

“Tom..... why did you come?” She said, turning to him as they walked,
putting her hand in his. 

“I guess I had to know. It was all too beautiful, you see, too perfect.
I had to come and be with you, prove that it could be what I wanted it 
to be. You're my prayer answered, do you understand that? I made this 
prayer, on my knees, blinded by grief, and broke of heart, and I 
whispered your love and asked for another chance.” 

“Stop, stop.... Look at your shirt, torn, too big on you these days,
have you no shame? Honey, it's okay, I'm here. I'll always be here. I 
look at your hands and see they have never done wrong. You're just 
caught in these trembling times with humming insects that won't rest. 
Light the candles. Light all the candles like we always did. Sleep in 
sunlight occasionally; catch the scent of the heavy undergrowth. Come 
to me from time to time, and we shall dance.” 

He's just a man, standing on the shore, waiting....weeping. 


   


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Email: Kelly_Shaw2001@yahoo.com

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