The afternoon waned and after a light dinner I found myself suddenly very sleepy. Since it was just dusk, I thought I'd take a short nap before my walk. I woke up to the sound of a howling wind outside the bedroom's bay windows which face the beach. Ahh, perfect! I thought. I always did love the wind. The clock on the nightstand read 8:20 so I hopped out of bed, washed up and dressed for the night's weather. A candle wouldn't have remained lit outside so I instead left it on the dresser adjacent to the bed, unlit. I went out through the back door crossing the deck, down the stairs and opened the gate to step onto the beach.
I didn't walk far at all, nor did I see other people. I was alone. It wasn't particularly cold, but was still a very brisk Autumn night with its chill biting at my cheeks. It seemed unusually bright for a quarter moon, casting a silvery and hypnotic dancing light upon the water. The stars were sparkling gems etched into a dark, velvety sky as powerful breakers thrashed onto the shore with the oncoming tide.
Eric and I had spent countless moments like this together feeling so free; so alive. The only other time Eric felt more of a sense of freedom was when he was flying. He would describe to me the boundless beauty he found in the clouds at sunset calling them "Heaven's roses". Although I had always greatly appreciated it, I didn't share Eric's enthusiasm due to my fear of flying. I will fly, but only out of neccessity. As I was gazing up at the sky, I drifted back to when Eric and I had first met.
I was a freshman at Georgetown University. He was the eldest brother of a college friend and one Sunday afternoon took three of us up for a ride in his Cesna. Feeble as it was, I went along attempting to overcome my fear. After a short time, Eric decided to have a little fun saying, "Okay kids, I'll bet you've never been on a roller coaster with no tracks before!" While my friends squealed with delight from the first loop, I sat stiff in my seat tightly grasping the armrests, my knuckles blanched. Glancing over at me, Eric's smile immediately changed into a look of genuine concern. Despite the protests of the others, he took us down. Quite shaken by the experience, he walked me to my car, his arm protectively around me. I welcomed the comfort, after all, no none had previously known of my fear. He sat patiently with me in the car until I was able to drive, the sincerity and compassion in his blue eyes captivating me completely. Those incredible eyes; reflecting the blue of the sky itself, contrasted by shining dark hair. He was gentle and kind as he spoke, his soft voice having a profound, soothing effect over me. I was spellbound, falling fast in love. We were married two years later.
In a instant my reverie was replaced by the stabbing pain of loss piercing through my heart like a cold, steel blade. For ten long years I'd been harboring this hidden anguish of living without him. Sobbing, I fell to my knees, head in hands, questioning the senseless injustices of life. I don't know if I would've endured had it not been for Miranda. She had become my lifeline.
The cottage was in view and as I lifted my head, I noticed a flickering light coming from the bedroom. "What the---." I distinctly remember not lighting the candle before I left. Just as I was about to return home to investigate, I noticed a distant figure approaching. At first, he was a shadow, but as his image became more clear, I squinted my eyes thinking they were deceiving me because he was barefoot and wearing no shirt! Now I know we weren't out in the dead of winter, but surely he must have been cold! Oddly enough, he appeared impervious to the elements altogether. I also noticed he had had something clutched in his hand, but couldn't make out what it was. As he neared and for reasons unbeknownst to me, not only wasn't I the least bit frightened, but was more than compelled to stay. I sensed something not only very familiar about this mysterious stranger, but a very strong, deep connection to him. But how can this be? I had never before laid eyes on this man! Closer and closer, seeming to glide instead of walk, he finally stopped and stood no more than a few feet from me. About six feet tall, he was well built and lightly defined. His hair, long and flowing, falling just above his shoulders was light brown and sun-streaked. His facial features were striking, especially his eyes. They were hazel flecked with green that penetrated my very soul with their stare. I was speechless. Overwhelmed with my own emotions for him that I couldn't begin to understand, I also felt his for me; his heart---his love. He smiled knowingly, and without moving his lips to speak, I heard him call to me in a most ethereal tone,"Anna". He then extended to me the clusters of the most beautiful small flowers, lavender and bright blue in color that he had had in his hand. They dropped to the sand as he started to fade right before my eyes! In a matter of seconds, he was gone... and so was the candlelight from the bedroom. "No! Don't go!" I cried out as I hurried to my feet. "Come back! Please! Come back!" He didn't. I finally picked up the flowers and just stared down at them in bewilderment.
I sat up in bed with a start, my heart racing. The clock read 9:35. A dream... This all had been a dream! Then, smelling hot wax suggesting the candle had just been blown out, I quickly got out of bed, flipped on the light and walked across the room for a closer look. The wick was still smoking and there were liquid pools of wax on the drip plate. I shook my head in disbelief. I had no recollection of lighting this candle let alone just now blowing it out! When I turned around to go into the kitchen to think this through over a cup of tea, I froze in my steps. There, lying on the bed dusted with sand, were the flowers!
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