Liquidation of Assets
There’s a distinct taste to the ocean air as it dies on your tongue like the flavor of despondency or new possibilities. You can almost feel the waves for days after you’ve retreated to the shore. That gentle lover’s lull, a comfort, as the boat drifts towards the center of serenity.
Stiff hair and salt-plastered skin juxtaposed with the warm, golden hue of your flesh. There is beauty in disintegration.
I relished the heat of the shower, scrubbing flakey remnants of death-caked skin from my thighs.
He’d laughed at me.
I loved his laugh, once, a deep infectious timbre. We used to discuss Nietzsche and Sartre, thought he was a philosophy major. Turned out to be PolySci.
I wonder if his astute wit will morph into the individual molecules of the sea? At least his eyes are reflected there. Stark, fear-filled blue as he clung to life. Demise won out as I’d sped away.
They’re still searching.
© Grace Black
Written for Flash! Friday Micro Fiction Contest
Entry just in the nick of time.