In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Afloat.”
How time passed
She remembered this house as it had been then, a dark little space: depressing, squalid; far from perfect but the optimist in her loved a challenge.
She had faith in putting love in the four walls believing everything around it would blossom and grow.
She sighed, her restless heart was beating.
What had happened to all those hopes and dreams?
How she was going to transform things; bring to life the potential she could see beyond the frost bitten welcome.
She hoped that if she gave it time, introduced things slowly, they would come around.
Three years is a long time to keep hope alive, to push out tendrils of friendship in barren ground.
This had been a place of sanctuary – a place of healing old, deep wounds because there had been no distractions.
Her isolation had given her time to find inner peace, she discovered herself because there were no other reflections to distort her self image.
She had been drawn to the restlessness of the sea, made daily pilgrimage, savouring it’s changing moods.
She felt most at home on that deserted beach, the chill wind whipping wild waves that tore at the rocks made smooth over time.
She did not have a lifetime’s patience of the sea to change things – maybe they are what they should be anyway?
This wasn’t the destination but the gateway,
The rootlessness that had caused her such grief was transformed as she realised how free she was
It was time to leave the restless sea and seek out the wild woods.