The Hourglass Shaped Goddess
Prelude
Franks POV
I step outside my back porch, the cold wind hitting my exposed chest. I couldn’t sleep, not with everything that’s been on my mind lately, and the sudden dreams that seemed to keep me awake more than ever now. But I didn’t mind the wake ups and late night strolls, I could stare at the moons reflection hitting the water forever. What a sight. A sigh of pleasure fell from my lips, man how I loved the view from out here. The deep blue ocean that seemed to cover more and more shore as the waves crashed, the midnight star filled sky. Heaven at it’s finest. Coming here with my mother was one of the best decisions I could have made. But then again, it seemed like the only decision left.
After my vocal cord injury I felt trapped in my tiny apartment, staring at the same brick walls, knowing that I could no longer sing the lovely tunes of Otis Redding or Marvin Gaye without the risk of losing my voice for good. Plus my place provided no new inspirations for the songs I failed to write. The lyrics didn’t tie together like a perfect Christmas bow anymore, but instead they unraveled like a ball of yarn. I was becoming a musical mess, and my mother offered an escape. The beach sure beats L.A. The polluted air of the city simply couldn’t compare to the salt filled freshness that Florida held. Though Tyler and the others weren’t exactly enthusiastic about my departure as I was. The phrases “Why do you need to leave?” “All the inspiration and fun you need is right here in front of you dipshit.” “We’re your family.” Were said to me countless times.
But they just didn’t understand. I felt like I was losing myself. I needed time. I let out a small yawn; the purple bags under my eyes started to feel heavier by the second. I mentally apologized to them. But it wasn’t my fault; it was hers, the girl that runs through my dreams all night. Though in my dream she doesn’t run, she walks barefoot on the shore with such a grace that captivates me, but I never see her face, it’s always too blurry. It’s like trying to see it through a straw; you can’t quite make it out. All I see is her body, and lord what a sight it is. She wears a long white dress that flows in the wind just like her hair that goes down to her breast.
I always hear her velvety silk like voice calling after me, but not by the name that everyone calls me, the name that only my mother and my future wife is allowed to call me. Christopher. The dream always ends with her staring into my eyes and disappearing with the waves that topple over her and carry her away. I hope to find this girl, the goddess that gives me lyrics with her mind-blowing seduction. I take one last glance at the breath taking view before backing into the house with a sense of ease. The nighttime views clear my head, and remind me of her. The girl I have never met that has me wrapped around her finger. These type of nights remind me of the girl I am going to find.
