I sat with
him on a huge rock by the sea. It was night time, a bitter cold wind blew, I
held my black shawl tighter to my chest and felt myself cloaked in darkness. We
spoke of shallow, meaningless things; his latest trip to America, my endless
troubles. There were so many silences deep and profound. During which I turned
my face away from his and felt the heat of his gaze on my freezing cheek, both
of us understanding but not saying a word. I kept my eyes on the wild raging
waves. The winter wind had turned the crashing waters into something terrible,
something unnatural. The black depth of the sea seemed to churn like the
inside of a dark stomach, the intestines of a great giant. Heavy waves, textured
and thick as if made of mercury, slapped lethargically with a violent sucking
sound. A glimmer of blue on a crest where the half-moon shone.
