Day 53 – Forgotten

Word count: 617



Her feet dangled over the edge of the pier as a wild sea breeze licked through her hair and sprayed grains of sand into her face. Tears were streaming down her face. Her mascara had gone blotchy and black rivers were trickling down her cheeks.

It was a cold February morning. The seagulls spiraled over head in search of their prized left over breakfast whilst the waves crashed against the shore below. The sea sparkled a reflection of the newly risen sun. On the horizon line ships passed gently by, seemingly undisturbed by the rocking morning swell of the incoming tide. Behind her, the waking world began to set out of their beds and switch their kettles on. Soon the spurious dawn traffic would grind to a halt under the torrent of commuters and the little seaside town would shrink to a ghost village as the church tower rang for nine o’clock.

For Fiona, though, the maddening world of career, cars and coffee was but a numb sensation of a vague memory. Sitting upon the shore made her thoughts swim with anger, frustration, sadness and depression. Whilst the eddies in the water whirled and whizzed, continually moving, continually changing, she did not. She touched the water with her toes and broke the flow of them.

Lying beside her on the rock was her mobile phone. It vibrated as a text message came through. It was the eighteenth one since sunrise. Her eyes were bleary with staying up all night and she no longer had the stomach for his groveling. Fiona knew his apologies off by heart. Each one was as insignificant and as meaningless as the next and after tonight, she was through with his pathetic excuses.

For four hours she had waited for him. Brand new little black dress, gorgeous heels, an hour and a half’s worth of beautification and all for it never to be seen. All that effort, all that hope to be appreciated, to be loved, to be cherished: gone.

Fiona needed no excuses. Fiona knew exactly what had happened. There was no emergency, there was no stalled car, there was no lack of phone credit and there was no late night traffic jam. He had no family feud to resolve and he had no work from which not be able to escape from. Fiona knew damn fine what had happened and her blood boiled and threatened to explode the more she thought of it.

To be sidetracked, to be reapportioned, to be delayed or rescheduled constantly was one thing, but to be forgotten entirely? Fiona hung her head in her arms and sobbed to herself. History continually repeated itself. History would always repeat itself. Another text message came in and made her descend into a darkness she had no escape from. With every cell in her body she tried to ascend from the pit – she would not let herself go there, not again.

It was as if she were trapped at the bottom of a well and only a pin prick of skylight filtered down from the top. All around her was a blackness that was only inescapable if she knew how to climb. Another text message came through and vibrated the rock once more. A ferocity in her snapped and broke free like a caged beast. She snatched the phone and jumped to her feet.  Taking but a moment to breathe and to think deeply about every inch of the anger and frustration that she felt, she launched the phone into the open sea and yelled a victorious cry of liberation. Her hands had gripped on to the first bricks of the well and she was now, finally, learning to climb.

~ by S.G. Mark on November 29, 2011.

One Response to “Day 53 – Forgotten”

  1. Not bad

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