Antonius M. Hogebrandt Author—-Dreamer

The Mourning Ocean–A Landscape

The raging ocean, as viewed from a cliff by Frances Gunn

Cerulean waves tipped with lace cradled her as they pulled her from the warm cliff. They caressed her freckled legs and rounded hips. With the gentleness of a lover they guided her into the chilled water, away from the jagged cove striated with crimson and granite. She slipped, unresisting, into the primal eternity. It soothed her torn dress and smoothed her wrinkled forehead.

Tendrils of flaxen hair swayed in the clucking water as a halo of scarlet spread from the back of her head. Honeysuckle slipped out of her white hands, and bloody petals escaped the once-constraining wreathe on her pale brow. They danced on the surface and swirled around her. Her blue eyes stared beyond, and her lips of pale rose were forever parted. Her sandals slipped off her bare feet and bobbed away into the distance.

Salt and seaweed harmonised with tangy iron and sweetness of flower into a dirge echoed by circling seagulls and the humming waves. The sky above her enshrouded itself in velvet of black and grey, and the sun concealed its face behind a broken veil of silver and indigo. The wretched winds whispered and moaned as they bathed her still face with droplets of salt water. Honoured by the mourning, she rested on billowing water that carried her between islets and rocks on her final breath.

The sky’s first tears trickled down her waxen cheeks and over her cold lips. They nestled in the hollow of her throat and kissed the red marks left from a torn chain. Drops caressed every bruise and mark marring her. They touched her bared chest and sun-kissed limbs in a final goodbye.

Each drop—more furious than the last—swirled into a maelstrom that tugged at her shroud of cotton and blushing lace. The heavy water lured and beckoned her below. Staring blindly at the world that had been hers, she surrendered. Brine rippled over parted lips as she sank into the watery embrace. Green tinted the clouds above, and only the barest of light accompanied the drops that danced on the surface.

The current swept her towards the unknown, through black-striped shoals of silver. The fish parted for her in their summer dance, allowing her free passage past reefs covered in ocean tulips and scuttling shrimp. Delicate wrack replaced her wreathe of roses, and grass kelp wove into the lace of her dress.

Distant echoes brought pleading voices. Through oblivion they called for her to join them, for her to become them. For her to be forgotten like them.

Her sisters in misery.