A gentle warning dear reader: this has none of the humor of Dragon's Champion. And yes, it is a little bit of a stretch for the 10x10, however my Mad Hatter poem isn't ready yet :)
There are so many things that I miss, that it’s hard to contain them all. I miss walking on the beach at sunrise, holding your hand. I miss the way air travel used to be an event, ladies with their high heels clicking across the floor, their dresses swishing down the aisle. Even though I could not ride with them, trapped beneath them in the cargo hold, I always felt a part of them. I’d dress in my favorite pleated dress, with matching heels with even a hand bag tucked in with me in that glorious rosewood box. I could hear them and it sounded like a grand time.
Almost as grand a time as when we used to watch the balls through the banisters. Do you remember that? Do you remember your promise to wait for me always? I remember the first ball, after the change. You led me through the tangle of jeweled women and severe men, taking me to where…
I am tired. I have lived, if it can be called that, way past my time. I have watched generations come and go, and yearned for not a one of those people. Mostly, I am tired of missing you.
You are and always have been my beloved.
Belinda sighed. The sand felt wonderful between her toes. For now, she was the sole occupant of the vast expanse of shoreline. For now, though, there was nothing between her and the twilight breeze. With a small smile, she withdrew the letter from her handbag. It perfectly matched her pumps, which sat perfectly lined up on the right. The sliver plated lighter came out of the purse. She flicked it open, and lit the letter on fire as the first rays of sun came over the horizon.
Yes, this is what she’d missed. She held onto the letter, even as the ashes left to dance with the wind. The sight of the sun over the ocean brought tears to her eyes, but she didn’t wipe them away. Let them be her last will and testament.
The first hint of light caressed her, and she leaned into the glorious nothing of unraveling to become one with the wind.