It had been decades since Bedelia visited the Gulf, though her soul held the sounds and scent of rippling waves gilded by sunlight.
Each year she ordered a calendar featuring beach scenes, silvered shells and bright coral, to liven up her drab kitchen.
These misted-dawn, seaside thoughts were disrupted by a knock at the door.
Peering through a slender slit in the drapery, she hardly recognized the man with gray hair and mustache…she began to tremble, heart beating rapidly out of sync.
How had he found her, and what did he want…perhaps to seek her forgiveness?
She remained still, breathless as a glass figurine, waiting for him to leave the paltry property she could claim as hers, unmarred—the gulf between her ex-husband and herself was forever-far too wide, turbid, and serpent-swirled to wade across.
©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.