This is the Life of a Redhead



Monday, November 8, 2010

The Shore, November

I stood at the water’s edge. The waves leapt forward and the icy cold ate away at my ankles. They were exposed to the wind and I saw water droplets beading on my skin, which was turning a rosy color that reminded me of the days in my childhood I spent sitting by the fireplace sniffling into a handkerchief that had I fetched from my father’s pocket. I remember the silver pocket watch he carried, the one with his initials carved in the back, a gift from gangsters. That silver now reflected in the water’s depths. The sun gleamed on the pebbles and the starfish, and there in the sand were metallic shards from the oil tanker that sank only seven months before.

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