domain

The coastal climate rips across the sky; my mind ruptures, and I listen to the rain. I could do this: live here in a multitude of silences. Walking along windswept passages, I imagine a life I one day inhabit. Storms and fireplaces define the nights. Collecting bits of flotsam spit up from the depths of the ocean in the early dawn. Wind and salt age my face, especially around my eyes. I don't mind; my hands are stronger than ever and know their place. I carry a backpack, it is full-- rubish I will shape anew. Me, I see myself reborn with the tide. A shadow rising into being, manifest.

There is hot chocolate or spiced wine served with hot bread. The warmth that comes when it is too cold to be alone, out-of-doors. Settling in to a book and a blanket, the stars hide just beyond the Hemlock. With any luck friends come and we walk until our fingers are red and chapped, holding hands making our way home. Cinnamon and sage impregnate the small wooden house with a warm spice.

Time and fortune seem weak obstacles for so vivid a dream. My heart thunders in my ear, I am not alone. I court my solitude and I sleep and I dream. Crisp air blows through my room of windows. The ocean roars hypnotically, the rain incessant, I check the clock. Half past three, a dead hour. I stand, unclad in the deluge.