When the birds flew overhead and sang their songs, they knew what they were doing. The communication from one to another, the thing that kept them content, or alert, or safe: it was beautiful. Their songs had meaning. Their songs had the tales of a million years worth of wind on the notes, and there was nothing that could diminish their power. Ingrid Knowles did not have this kind of power. As she sat on the edge of an over sized sea rock, waves lapping at the stone and her legs, she considered what kind of power she did have. The kind that tore her from her family, from her life, and left her with nothing more than visions of endings.
In her experience, there had been many endings. Starting with her own, the list grew so long that siren couldn’t believe she could still recall each one. So clearly. Ten years worth of fleeing cities that began to wonder how long she could be twenty six. Of trying to forget that she really wasn’t twenty six. After a few minutes of sitting with her feet in the water, she lifted her knees to her chest. It was only so long that she could leave them in there, the darkness of it, despite the longing she so deeply wanted to cave into.
With her chin on her knees and her arms around her legs, she watched the water and listened to the birds loitering on the beach behind her. It didn’t take long to track down a pair of footsteps making their way behind her, and she looked over her shoulder to the source. “Hey!” The greeting was more of an attention catcher, and she continued resting her head on her knees as she waited to see if stranger thought she was worth the diversion. “Enjoying the sun too?”
