The Calling

the sky was dark and grey
rain fell
a fine cold mist
enveloping all in its dampness
it wrapped around her
a cold wet blanket
as she trudged through the tea trees
the smell of salt and wet wood

he followed her shadow
through the fine damp mist
silently
the trees overhead
gnarled and twisted into a long, dark tunnel
water dripped from the branches
dripped down his face
mingling with his tears

clawed wooden arms reached out at her
scratching
tearing at her clothes and skin
pulling
dragging her back
dragging her down
wiping water and tears from her eyes she pushed on
not this time

she stumbled through the trees
into the open
the crashing of the waves
grew louder
called to her
she clambered up the sand dunes
soft and damp beneath her bare now bloodied feet
pain had become irrelevant

he quickened his pace
the ground became soft as he reached the dunes
grasping at plants and sand
he scrambled to the top
the lone figure on the beach
fading into the white mist
grey walls of water and white foam
as the waves smashed on the beach

the wind had picked up
long wet hair flicked into her eyes
in her mouth
the taste of salt and sand
the water rose to meet her
covering her toes
her ankles
as she walked in deeper

it was up to her knees now
the water cold
her feet unfeeling
her legs numb
creeping to her waste
the water foaming
sucking her out
drawing her further in

he stood high on the dunes
watching her figure shrink
as she walked further out into the mist
disappearing into the shadows
swallowed up into the water
a huge grey wave
crashing down on her head
the last he saw of her

the final stab of pain overtook her
then silence
as she floated free

he lingered for a while
the echo of the waves in his ears
a single ray of sunlight broke through
as he turned his face away from the sea
trudging through the tea trees
the smell of salt and wet wood
he could swear he heard her voice on the wind
singing, she was home

Written by Rachel 7/10/2004