Saturday, August 21, 2010

On The Peir

So that is how they ended up there. Sitting on the pier on their first night with a glass of wine each - listening to the corellas finding roosting spots and the lap lap hush of the water on the rocks and against the boats. The hollow tonging of the boats against their moorings. And it was Elise's thought as she wiped the condensation from her glass I must write about this; this is the kind of thing I need to include in my book. This exact scene. The early evening light was catching the gold out of Sasha's hair and smoothing her skin until she seemed almost perfect, sitting with her knees in a triangle looking out towards the island and the open sea. This was the way, Elise decided, she would always remember her - fix her now, this spot, this point in time, this glass of cold clear wine, this breeze. This moment.

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