Monsoon

One tiny problem can make a person leave everything they ever needed just to solve it. Lea's made her choice. | Inspired by the song Monsoon by Jack Johnson.

                “All of life / is in one drop of the ocean / Waiting to go home / Waiting to go home...” The words in Lea’s mind were falling through her voice, a quiet whisper of song. The waves in front of her seemed to race for the shore, only to fall back again. It was a cycle, a hopeless struggle of water and land. It seemed to be the pattern of nature, cycles with no end and no winner and no definite things. Yet humans were the exception. Or... thought they were the exception? Wasn’t it all just life and death for us too?

                A warm hand covered hers and she turned to the person beside her, making eye contact. He smiled, shuffled a little closer. This was nice.

                “Maybe nothing matters.” She spoke more to herself.

                “Maybe nothing matters most.” This was why she liked him so much.

                The sound of ocean, that unique rush, was filling the silence between them. It was the kind of silence that you wanted to live in. It wasn’t lonely silence, but it was calming, and it made you feel like you were something significant. Yet, even silence can become tiring, and she stood up, gently pulling his hand.

                “Can we walk around a little?” The urgency in her voice was badly hidden, although the signs in her face weren’t visible through the hair that blew across her eyes. The wind had created a living veil, throwing gilded strands wherever it pleased.

                Hayley got up, brushing the sand off his legs with his free hand. He leaned in gently and softly kissed her, hoping to make everything feel normal for a few moments. She smiled and led him down to the water, walking with both feet in the surf.

 

                Her bed was warm but the air was cold, blowing in through her window. Lea closed her eyes for a moment, pulling the blankets closer to her chin while trying to keep her arms free. An album lay on her lap, and she turned the pages as slowly as she dared, breathing deep to keep the inevitable tears at bay for a few seconds longer. Pausing at a certain image, she couldn’t hold it any longer.

                It was her and Hayley, a week before they started kissing. His arms were wrapped protectively around her, she looked a little uncomfortable, but both were smiling. Her hair was long, dark blonde, curling around her shoulders. His hair was much lighter, cut short. Both had sun-induced freckles and expressions of happiness that seemed to only light up when they were together.

                And it hurt so much more to know that she wouldn’t have that smile again after tomorrow, at least until she could return.

The End

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