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by Gayla Chaney Discount Motilium, Rita Flynn closed her eyes, letting the sea mist spray against her face.  It was cold, a reminder that it was not the season for beachcombers. She sat alone, 200mg Motilium, wrapped in the army blanket she had retrieved from the trunk of her car, thankful for once that she hadn’t put it back where it belonged after the last time she used it.  Sometimes, her incurable procrastination worked in her favor.  Pulling the blanket tighter around her parka and jeans, 250mg Motilium, Rita knew it was probably foolish to visit this isolated, Motilium coupon, tar-covered beach in December.  But foolish was what she did best, she acknowledged with a small laugh as she tilted back her head allowing the wind to blow its briny breeze into her mouth.  She thought of it as spit slung from the lips of some ebbing blue water sprite, warning her not to stay too long, 30mg Motilium, not to think too much, Motilium uk, not to yearn for the sound of a distant foghorn, not to listen for some drowning sailor’s cry.

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Now, thirty years later, Motilium india, nothing was forbidden.  The world was as indifferent to her whereabouts as pedestrians at rush hour would be to another fleeing soul brushing past them on their way to oblivion.  Yes, Motilium canada, that’s what they were all doing, everyday, every week, 500mg Motilium, every year until each one systematically disappeared into the fog - forgotten, Motilium us, erased, to be replaced by a new pair of fashionably-clad feet.

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Still, 20mg Motilium, she had returned to this very spot and although she knew better than to go out into the water, she could recall the sensation: a feeling forever anchored to this shore.  If it weren’t so cold, she might remove her shoes and socks and cuff up her jeans and walk slowly like a respectable lady along the edge of the beach; but that would not be wise in this cold season.  It was December, Motilium australia, and there was much yet to do; all those seasonal tasks were waiting for her. Motilium mexico, “Enough of this,” she spoke aloud as though that young Rita might be listening, prodding her to stay a little longer.  The sound of the sea was powerful, Motilium craiglist, even when she turned her back to it.  The rhythmic crashing of the waves was hypnotic.  Had she been younger, Motilium ebay, more impulsive, less bound to obligations, she might have sat back down and listened for a little longer.  Instead, Motilium usa, she glanced at her watch before brushing the sand from her jeans as she stood up and gathered the damp blanket into her arms. Motilium japan, Walking toward her car, Rita pondered all the dead that slept under the sea, the unretrieved corpses, 750mg Motilium, the myriad of souls that never came back home, 10mg Motilium, and although it could have been a morbid image, it did not repel her.  She thought it might not be such a bad thing when dead to be carried out to sea in a small, drifting boat like some ancient Viking. There was a constancy about the tide that made her think of a devoted lover.  She started the engine of her car and glanced back toward the water, momentarily imagining the waves splashing up against a drifting vessel, carrying it farther and farther away from shore until it disappeared from view, submerged and embraced by a waiting, mystic ocean.

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1 Comment

  1. Philip Lear
    July 27, 2011

    Beautiful story. I thought that the first sentence was too long.

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