A Long Way From Home

Serenity

The cloud of all splendor floats across the indigo like a small boat on a winding and ruthless sea. The winds ravishing, boards toiling hard to stay above the endless depth, and how foolish was I too attempt this dark and inevitably deadly journey alone. But I'm not endanger persay.

(Imagination at it's base is indestructible.) And never was there a place I dared not to venture. A flash from above brought me back from the shadowy depths. Standing beneath the willow tree sprayed bright with the sun was my lady love. Jessamine Harlow. Her pink diamond earrings gleaned. They didn't make her beautiful. She made them beautiful. She crouches next to me as I laid there with my arms tucked behind my head.

"Cloud watching is one of the more useless vanities," she smiles deeply.
At both ends of her mouth are dimples.  Jessamine kissed my forehead; leaving a smudge of pink lipstick. Usually in one of these moments a man will take some sort of deep pride in what he has accomplished. I landed Jessamine, (the small town heiress to the Harlow Hills Corporation. HHC.)

I landed the prom queen while I was an outcast. I landed the Army Hero's daughter. I landed a coveted human being. Yet, I feel no different.

"I'm not cloud watching. I'm trying to imagine something for a story I'm writing. If a man was lost at sea sometime during the night, wouldn't he be lonely? But I apply this same scenario to myself and I tend to believe that even when the world has lost it's end I'd be comforted.

Jessamine arches her brows and slunks her shoulder blades. "Then show that. Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint off broken glass!"

If ever a moment a man appreciated his woman, this counts for me. She is the crucible by which I mend my bones. She is not my strength but the reason I need to be strong.

"I see your point," with a hand placed around her neck. I kissed her. And in her eyes of Arabian sand, I saw the future of doubt. Because little to no things last forever. I love her, I admit.

I struggle to catch my breath but the water rolls high and speedy. My boat catches a long and powerful tide. And before I knew to grab hold of the rail, I was overboard. The ice cold water entrap me. I know I'm going to drown, so far from home. Alone.

But the imagination is a powerful thing. In my last moment I found comfort in the memory of Jessamine by the willow tree. The water overtook my lungs.

All I could think about was...

Then show me that. Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint off broken glass!