a bottle of ale for hope

foreword

Her...

Cold sea breeze caress my damp face. White waves kiss the shore as the wind makes them stronger. I'm still in white; the best dress that I imagine myself to be on this wonderful day. Now thinking of it this is also the suitable dress to wear for ending this miserable life.

"Sandara! Sandara!" someone shouts my name. As I turn back its him. I don't want to see him anymore. After the betrayal that he did. After the pain he inflicted. This is too much. As i step closer to the cliff I sighed and surrendered my body to the sea.

Him...

"Is it done already?" I asked again. Maybe this is the fifth or the sixth time I asked this vendor about the stuff that I bought.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm just making sure that everything is packed properly," he responded without meeting my eyes.

Years of seeing that done kicked my instincts. This person reported seeing me. Well Nomad Rule # 1: Never trust anyone.

"Well, I have to go, " I responded as I scoop all of my stuff. I threw a couple of bucks to the counter not counting "Keep the change," I yelled.

Immediatley I went straight to my boat and removed the rope. I set out of the docks as fast as I could. On my way to the cliff enclosing the island something white is falling.