The Sea Calls My Name. A descriptive short story.
A descriptive short story about the sea.
When I was a child I believed that everyone like me lived close to the sea. I could hear the sea from my own garden, which is why I thought that every child could listen to the sounds of the waves in the distance while they played.
As soon as we moved in land, I knew that I had been mistaken. I understood then that you could spend months of your life without hearing the sound of the sea or of walking on a beach beside the sea. Some days I missed my old home so much, that just playing in the school sand pit would make me cry. One day the teacher seeing my tears punished another child thinking it had thrown sand at me. I did not have the courage or sense to explain what had really made me weep that day.
My family never understood what caused me to change from a carefree lively child to one who sat in a corner of the room and read books. They never knew that I was in mourning for the loss of the sea from my life. Sometimes, at home I would sneak into the kitchen and run my tongue over the top of the salt cellar. The salt crystals on the tip of my tongue would remind me of the summer days splashing in the sea. Even my tears brought me solace, as they streaked a path down my cheeks and ended up on the tip of my nose or my chin. For me the salt in tears was the same as the sea's salt invisible but present.
So after I the move to the town, I began to write my love songs to the sea. I had a little blue journal that had been a present from an aunt it was in this that I set down the things that I missed. Of course they were not real songs as I had no musical ability. The words in my head were like a sad lament. A lament that played daily, over and over on a loop. As I stared out of the school window the teachers would notice and scold me for not listening to them.
I do not know that I learned much in the five years we lived in that landlocked place. The only joyful days I can recall at that time where the summer holidays which we spent at the coast. One day the misery of it ended abruptly when we once again moved house and this time we were just a short walk from a sandy bay, where the sea shore was even more beautiful than my first home.
At seventeen I married a fisherman, I knew he would never make me move away from my true love. The sea gave us a living and put a roof over our heads. It clothed our young ones and put food on their plates. Then one day it stole him from me taking something that mattered more than living on the coast. In despair I packed up our few possessions and took the little ones to live in a market town. It was a place where the only reminder of the sea was the occasional raucous call of a sea gull. Every year on the anniversary of the event, I would leave the children with a friend and take the bus to my former hometown. I would arrange the flowers into a lover's knot and trace his name on the surface of the rough stone with my finger tips.
In the church yard over looking the sea I would sit on the wooden bench and stare out at the horizon. There was no song for the sea in my heart now, just one word not a song but a lament of one word and that word was why.
This story is copyright and may not be copied or used in print or online in anyway without my consent.
You may 'Tweet it' etc. but not use the text here, thank you.
Your comments are welcome as they are always encouraging to writers and I am no exception.
"I find walking on beaches to be a timeless and a pleasant way to view the changing seasons."
More by this Author
Five very short stories told in less than a hundred words. The Proposal, Family Heirlooms, The Gloves, The Church Mouse...want to know more ...read them here..
here two short stories of less than 300 words that you can read online free. The first is called The Wedding Dress and the second is called Payday. Short enough to read in a coffee break...