He had better things to do than this.
There were always better things to do than come here.
But there was something about it. Something about the glassy surface. Something about the way the waves lapped gently at the shore that always drew him, when he was near. Even with the faint memories of the rushing sound in his ears. With the chill that felt like a bucket of water being dumped over his head. The feeling that, for some reason, he shouldn’t be able to breathe, so close to this. He found himself, again and again, at the shore of the lake.
Just like now. Crouched down on his stomach, watching as the waves chased each other ashore - receding just as quickly. Never touching the water for fear that it would reach up and grab him. It was a silly fear, he was beginning to realize - but it was there, embedded into his brain, all the same. He wasn’t sure why anymore. There was something, something to do with the fuzzy memories, but he couldn’t remember.
But even with the uneasiness, there was something soothing about this sound.
There was no rushing here. Just the gentle sound of the lake moving placidly against the pebbles along the shore. There were good memories here - the time Momma had fetched him a pretty yellow pebble from the water most prominent. How nicely it had matched the color of Momma’s eyes - and his own. It was precious, even if it was just a silly pebble. He still had it - tucked away in the alcove safely, hopefully away from Anna’s greedy paws.
He hummed a quiet sound, eyes remaining on the waves as they rose and fell, the sound and the motion lulling him into a peaceful place.
Apr 12, 2018 07:33 PM
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