The Ladies and the Light
"No matter how often I've been here, I can't get enough."
"It's beautiful. But I can. I'm cold. Let's go back to the car."
"The ocean is so big. No end in sight. My mind goes out in that and doesn't feel so small."
"It shouldn't feel small anyway. He had no right."
They stood and listened to the breaking waves below the lighthouse as the sun went down. They were the last of all to come there for that day. But for their car, the parking lot was empty at their back. The restaurant beside the lot was dark.
"Oh, I don't know. He thought it was a friendly thing to do. He thought my mind was big enough. And, well, it is. It's my heart that doesn't have the room."
"You were his wife. He should have known."
"I should have known I couldn't do it. I thought I could, and for a while it was all right. We sat at the table while he cooked. I talked and she listened. She talked and I listened. We were both laughing a lot. We drank half the bottle before he set the first dish down. He was so happy, thinking I liked her, his new love."
"He still believes in free love. Should have learned by now. Love isn't free. It costs ... it costs you everything. Oh, can't we please go back now. I can't feel my toes. Or the tip of my nose."
They stood a while longer, the one shivering, the other waiting for the light to breathe its last. And hoping against hope that it wouldn't.
1 March 2021
Texas Jim
Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca