|Clare in the mist, courtesy of http://1stwrites.blogspot.com|
‘Today, I will watch for him today,’ Clare thought, staring out across the bay.
The mist roiled about her, soaking her to the skin. Clare shivered and then her skin relaxed in the warmth that followed. Listening for a sound, she found herself in a cocoon of mist and silence.
How many days had Jackson been gone? ‘Today is three-hundred eighty-four’, she rolled the number around in her head. Flash images of his back as he slung his rucksack over his shoulder, growing smaller in the distance as he rowed his curragh away from her—that’s all she could see now. His face was a blur, lost in a mist itself.
Still no sound, Clare strained to hear, to see just a hint that Jackson was coming back to her. That he would stay this time.
Then a sound, ker-plunk, broke the stillness of the air, the glassiness of the water.
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