The wedding dress that she had never worn before gleamed like a priceless jewel in the sunlight. Clasped in fingers etched with the journeys of yesterday, was a single rose, as red as the jubilant ruby that he had promised to buy. Beneath her, the sea, in all his magnificent and murderous beauty; a handsome gentlemen frothing with rabies.
He laughed at her jeeringly, beating against the rocks he would not permeate as though chuckling at her stupidity. The sea, el mar, knew she would not find that who he had already taken.
The woman was old, and the paths her tears had took were imprinted onto her face. Her hair was once a golden waterfall, but since had decayed into the white-speckled grey mess on top her scalp. Her eyes had once been a lovely blue, as blue as the sea which now taunted her, but the blue had washed out with her tears and now they were only grey.
She had been beautiful in her youth, and he, her love, had never failed to remind her. Images, from decades past, flew through her head. He was a man of the sea and proclaimed it as his brother, and this was where he had proposed and where he had promised their wedding would be.
She was the fretting bride, blind with love, overridden with angst as she decided what dress, what ring, who to invite. He was a Navy sailor who served his country riding on the back of the sea.
With haunting clarity she remembered when the letter had come. It was precisely eight twenty-three on wedding morn’ and she had ripped it open in an unladylike manner, expecting it to be something about him. She thought he would tell her where they would hug and kiss and laugh and cry. She was right. The letter told her he was in heaven and that he was gone and never coming back.
She promised that she would never love again and vowed to a life of chastity, for love, like the letter, would slowly kill her from the inside out. She promised that she would never come to this place again, to the sea, for it had betrayed her lover and killed him, lusting after her himself.
Now, as she stood on the bank of her greatest enemy, she realized that he had been right all along, the nefarious gentlemen. She was stupid not to love, she was stupid to cower in fear, and as the sun, shining with the glint of a diamond blade pierced her eyes, she realized that to cowardice was compliance, and that compliance was worse than death.
With all the energy she had at twenty three, she took off the chastity belt, walked to the edge of the cliff, and threw the rose into the sea.
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125,012 Literary Works • 672,841 Reviews
Hello, steampowered here to review your work!
First of all, I really enjoyed reading this. It was beautifully written, and I love the way you personalised the sea. However, I was a little confused by the age of the woman. At the very end you suggest she is only twenty-three, which makes sense if she has aged mentally but not physically, but earlier you mention “images, from decades past”. To me, this doesn’t make much sense. If the woman is physically still very young, how can she remember things from decades ago? Perhaps this needs to be made clearer.
I’m intrigued by your use of the word “el mar”. This indicates that the story does not take place in an English-speaking country, but this is the only clue that is given. Maybe you could mention other words, or cultural things? Is this Spain, or somewhere in South America? Is this woman living in a foreign land where her language is not spoken? I think it could give the story another layer if you explored this further.
I’d love to find out what happened to the husband-to-be. Did he die in service? (I’d have thought that wouldn’t be likely, given the fact they were getting married that day) Did he go for an early morning swim and drown? Did his boat sink? Also, this is a minor point but you might want to leave out the bit about “hug and kiss and laugh and cry” or at least move it, because she was right about the letter being about him but not where they were going to do these things, and it would clarify it more for your reader. Hopefully that makes sense!
Overall, I loved reading it, and I’d really like to read more of your writing! Keep up the amazing work!
I found this quite an interesting read! What inspired you to write this?
At the start, I had this image of an old widow who was reflecting on her past. I thought it might be an anniversary of some kind and she was remembering the man that she once loved. But it was a good twist at the end to portray her as old on the inside, but young on the outside. The rose was quite a nice way to end the story, to symbolize that she had moved on. The imagery in the story was quite detailed and I especially liked this paragraph as it really captured an image of her,
"The woman was old, and the paths her tears had took were imprinted onto her face. Her hair was once a golden waterfall, but since had decayed into the white-speckled grey mess on top her scalp. Her eyes had once been a lovely blue, as blue as the sea which now taunted her, but the blue had washed out with her tears and now they were only grey."
The only problem I picked up was that sometimes you used too many commas in some of your sentences. That is just me being a bit pretentious though! It was a good story and I liked it.
Cya
Tennishead
Thank you so much Tennishead--I agree the sentences are too comma-ridden and will work on changing that.
Interesting.
So the woman is young by time standards, but by standards of a life, she is old. The detail is nice, and the emotion you work into the story is very good.
I'm guessing the rose is symbolic of her late husband's love for her, and her throwing of that rose into the frothing ocean which took his life signifies that she has moved on.
I liked it. Keep writing!
Thank you Elder One!!!