Scarborough Tales (Part 2)

A simple, loose white cotton dress made her glow like a fallen star. He found her dancing alone in and out of the trees, each becoming her lover for a turn or two before she moved on. Her long waves floated behind her gracefully while being kissed by the moonlight. She was such an ethereal being.  He stifled his chuckling for he wanted to watch a bit longer.

Scarborough Tales (Part 1)

The water was licking at his toes but he took no notice as the fog separated him from the world. His thick frame bore a simple pair of walking shorts and a loose cardigan. His hair long and disheveled hung in his haunted face. His eyes dark pierced the fallen cloud the way he only wished he could pierce how his heart has fallen to cloud his mind. He began to cut the thick white fluff with a finger. Drawing the future he dreamed of; the future he wanted from her. The future he now had without her. He drew puppies behind a white picket fence. He drew faces of laughter and love. He drew family holding hands. He drew till all left of the fog was a moonlit sky with images you’d lay to guess and day-dream of. He fell back on the hard, wet sand. Immediately the fog consumed him averting the divulge of trading the filmstrip of past for the hopes and possibilities of silver-lined, child-like images. He breathed the heavy air wondering if God would favor him and let this casket sweep him quietly to a watery grave.