Pondering on a Stone Jetty

The violins flow through my headphones and decide to portray the soundtrack in that exact moment. With a quiet smile, I turn my cold cheeks into the salty wind and relish in the feeling. As I watch, waves crest into the moonlight and slowly, they begin to rise and fall with the rhythm inside my head. A giant spray of ocean water hits the rocky jetty and kisses my face harshly, yet delicately.

Alone on a jetty, an energy drink in one hand and a congratulatory cigar in the other. It’s a moment long overdue and thus, I grin into the salty eternity. It is an ominous presence that beckons for participation and inclusion. I feel the few passerby’s staring with absurd eyebrows at the girl, inches from a pivotal point, resting calmly in the frigid air. I know I look strange but it is this, this solitude that grants me the serenity so sought after.

I know I should turn back, I know I should go home. The routine of daily life seeks to bring me back. Still, my eyes rest upon the dancing waves, enchanted in their power and beauty. These waves could kill you or take you back to shore. Murderers and paramedics rolled into one. But to jump in would be to toss a coin and declare heads. Fifty-fifty chance my weak little body would roll up on a shore, into a world of something different. What would they do to me, I wonder? Would they notify my country or state of their discovery? If the technology is lacking, would I be given a blank tombstone? I picture complete strangers, laying flowers on my life, unlabeled and forever unclaimed.

Thinking on it, it would be an adventure. Sure, my physical self would be brushed as sea glass across a vast eternity. Yet my soul could learn to live amongst a world unknown and provide an exploration never granted to me in my own reality. Would it be a land of palm trees and coconuts? Or would it be another bustling city? Could it be a land unseen by human eyes? Or merely just another beach, twenty miles up the coast line? It’s a risk I would be unable to control, as an ocean of grace and power will have chained me until my time had come.

I ramble on to myself, alone on this jetty and eventually, the magic seems to fade. My jeans are now damp and the bitter wind seems to freeze my feet off. My cigar is finished, the drink is empty. Even my ipod has chosen to give in and die. I rise and head back to the car. But off in the distance, I imagine the violins and for one glittering second, glance back to a world of enchantment and possibilities, dulled in the crashing of waves.

Key in the ignition. Turn the heater on. Pull back on the main road. Time to go home.

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