A Story... where it came from I don't know...

07 November 2017 12:00 AM

ever walk along a stone wall, no neither have I but let's pretend, move up out of the woodworks, she spreads her arms, the long loose sleeves fall from her flesh like gossamer, finery wings, the path is firm, pebbles, packed, moving through the grass towards the shore, there is an alcove, where the tangled brushes meet, like grasping their hands in prayer, twiddling with her beads long wooden beads, she looks across the north sea, towards the inland thoughts, borderlines, oh, we are so silly creating these walls, just go in your house and lock the door, load your shotgun if need be. they stood at the window, looking down the hill, tumble down sea, the land of their fathers wasn't much to begin with, but it was what he had and he gave it to them with a full heart, they knew that, and no fault laid blame, was strange that their names were false, why am I seeing pipes, plumbing rusted, a metal arm, does this still work, he turned the faucet, there was a clanging shudder but then the water came through a bit muddy at first, but then clear. She asked him to turn it off, though, she wanted to find the source, first, before they used it indiscriminately, took a bit of hiking through the hills, it was a stream, where the water fell down through the rocks, this is why I don't want to do it, she said, tapping against the rock, if we need the water, let's come here, he was grumpy about that, but in the end he acquiesced.