Forlorn Memory
This short story is in answer to a challenge posted by annart, bellow you'll find the artwork that inspired it, used with annart's permission. I hope I got it right and that you'll find it appealing and worthy.
Since he can remember, every day at the same time, just before the sun sets completely, you’ll find him here, always watchful, always waiting. As he stands with water covering his feet, he lets each small wave wash his sorrows away, taking deep breaths he concentrates on his heartbeat and remembers.
“Julian when are you coming in to join me?” she would always ask, for him answering this question was always painful, since he knew joining her would be impossible, he wouldn’t be able to survive the pressure of the ocean on his head, his lungs would not endure hours without air, so he would just look at her lovely eyes and smile, the sweetest of smiles, and answer “someday I will” but you could see the sorrow in his eyes, because he knew this day would never come.
As time went by, his visits to her got shorter and shorter until one day he didn’t come, she waited for him for hours, but as the sun set in the horizon so did her hopes of seeing him. That day was Julian’s most dreadful day, he knew that he would miss her and that time had played its chime correctly, it had given him the chance to meet her, to love her and now, to forget her. But as time went by, he found it harder to achieve, until one day he decided to go back, maybe she’ll come even though he knew he had neglected her and for this she would forget him, creatures like her are not easily trifled with, when they feel hurt they shy away and never return, this he knew, but still he hoped. His shadow behind him was his sole companion, and even it knew she would not come.
And with hope in his heart, anew every day, he returned and waited, until the sun set and sometimes even after, to see if he could at least get a glimpse of her fare skin and dark hair, but as true to her nature, she didn’t return.
Since then, you will find him, always watchful, always waiting, with hope in his heart, that maybe today; she will hear his desperate heart calling for her.
