Sketching Lines


He sketched lines that were never there, rough and crude with smudged charcoal stain, which he wiped across a brow already beaded with sweat. I looked ahead of me but all I could see was endless nothing, which made me want to squint my eyes. He was angry, that I could tell, and muttered expletives whistled impatiently from exhaled breath. The sun bore down on me and I longed for the shade beneath the parasol, anything but the pain of holding my head up that weighed heavily of salt water and hair carelessly twisted just above my nape. I hadn't agreed to this, and sitting still was never something I was particularly good at. Muscles screamed to be active.

When he finished I leaned over to look at the end result. How is it that anything as personal as a picture or photo always brings conflicting emotions? It was good, but I was not sure it was me - not really me, certainly there was a likeness, the shape of the head, the curve of the lips, my profiled gaze caught longingly of other days when the sun never shone as brightly.

I swam as far as I could in the icy water, until I could feel sweat, hot sweat pouring off my body and leaving a salty trail - lungs breathing deeply so that intense heat and cold caused a pain. I stopped swimming and sculled in the water - looking towards the bay with its red gold sand. The journey back would be harder and the tide was against me. I swam between the boats whose shadows made the water appear a dark inky black. Carefully making sure that I did not swim too close to the hulls, I increased my strokes. A strong crawl to give myself that added boost before retiring into a more ladylike breaststroke that made my neck ache. I could see the rock ahead where as children our goal had been to reach the top. Oddly shrunk in years or perhaps time distorts size?

I reached the shore and just lay floating, catching handfuls of sand.
Tonight I would be the one to sketch, showing him the artistry of my hands as they drew lines - his skin my canvas.




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 695 times
Written on 2015-08-05 at 20:29

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Simply beautiful :)
2015-08-10


one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
a bit of your memory is now a part of ours.

the last line surprised me. i felt an antagonism in your words toward the artist, leading up to that line, not affection.

the story format was a nice change.
2015-08-08


shells
Loaded with descriptive memories, your final line is just perfect.
2015-08-06


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Nice, and well plotted.
2015-08-06