Member-only story
Laura’s Theme
It was the last vestiges of a warm fall day, you know, just before long sleeves and woolen vests. A day that needed a walk in it, before breathing in the cold air that messaged the lungs it was time to hibernate. Slowly making my way down to the St. George River as high tide, brought whatever the Atlantic pushed in this morning. Staying free of the wet mud along the bank and side stepping those long wooden boxes that the clam people fashioned to hold their catch of the multi sized bivalve mollusks, dug up from the mudflats at low tide. Soon, like everything else, the cold and wind of winter would freeze, and the river take on the look of a quiet mirror, that only God could paint.
This day was special, and as I walked toward the train trestle running over the river, I felt a sense of calm, looking forward to observing the sunrise and sitting on my log to think to take in to enjoy to breath and to be. The sky broke red, and with thickening clouds, my mind’s camera focused on an apparition ten to twelve feet, across the tracks from me. I quickly rubbed my eyes, blinked twice, looked back to find this specter forming into the shape of a woman. She seemed about 5 feet high, and though she was standing facing me, her body shifted like it was a tornado, leaves flew about and tiny birds escaped her as if fleeing her ferocity. With her arms she strategically covered her topless body and long beautiful hair obscured her face.
