Tides in the water rose and fell. A green wine bottle floats to shore.
I uncork it and peer inside. A letter neatly tied with a ribbon is inside. I tilt the bottle upside down and shake it.
The letter slides out easily, I pick it up and drop it. I wipe my hand on my blue jean shorts.
The letter had a greasy residue. I smelled a faint smell of perfume and realized the letter was soaked in essential oils.
I pick it up and open it.
MUMFORD was neatly written in all capital letters in red ink.
I roll the letter and tie it back with the ribbon. I uncork the bottle and put the note back in the bottle. I toss the bottle into the ocean, watching the tides pick it up and carry it out into the deep waves.
I toss my blond hair behind my shoulder and pick up my messenger bag off the sand.
"Mumford, "
A woman wails.
I looked around, seeing no other person I shrugged my shoulders and put on my flip-flops.
"Why did you leave me?"
I drop my bag and peer around the area.
"He died,"
A man's voice whispers.
"please tell her he died, he's waiting for her on the other side."
Goose bumps form across my body.
"H-he's dead,"
I whisper.
"he's waiting for you to join him on the other side,"
I say wiping my tears.
The sun shines brightly and I smile, feeling at peace.
YOU ARE READING
223,000 strikes of Paint
Short StoryA collection of thought-provoking short stories. Inspired by life's uniqueness and the ability to overcome difficulties. It takes many paint strokes to complete a painting, but only one to begin.
