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The sky hung low with grief, casting dark shadows over the rippling sea. A man stood before the edge, faced away from the tide and bearing a solemn expression. Water lapped against the shore, crashing against each other before settling by his heels. He was no stranger to the miseries life had to offer. He knew of all the tragedy that would come to pass, yet, he could not brace himself for the worst. The sun glimmered a hazardous rouge, as if it was mocking the blood that ran dry at his fingertips. Blood that he could not tell if it was his own, or belonged to another. Time and time again, he found himself in an relentless cycle of loss. The death of his family, the death of his friends, the death of himself.
The wind howled, harbouring the cold that ate away at his face. The numbness he knew too well. He dared not to look back at the waters, knowing that he would not recognise the man that looked back at him. Returning to this place was both a blessing and a curse. Regardless of what terrors awaited him in life, he was constantly drawn back to the sea. It called for him, like how a mother would call her son home for dinner. Like reuniting with a lover for the first time in forever.
“There is nothing left for you here.”
A warm, gentle voice broke through, amidst the heavy atmosphere. Without hesitation, he turned to the source. His face softened briefly, yet, there was a sense of dread that filled him. The man took a step back as his eyebrows furrowed. He could not make sense of what was before him. His eyes locked onto the figure, unable to recognise its face. The angel’s features came blurry to him, as if its identity was washed away by the sea that crashed against their feet.
Its words weighed down on him. He knew the angel was right in its statement. He knew that it was pointless to linger in what little solace there was in this place. He knew that he could not remain cemented in the past, and that he had to move on. His lips parted briefly to say something, but not a word escaped him. How long had the angel been watching him? Perhaps it had been there since the beginning, and had abstained from revealing itself until now. The angel’s wings fluttered, its halo dull and heavy, as if it were made from the clouds above them. It turned around, trudging into the water, leaving footprints in the sand.
The angel was out of touch, and he was out of time.
With an outstretched hand, he made chase. Memories flooded his mind, his vision growing hazy. Guided by the angel’s dying glow, he reached for it. The angel turned around, and he could finally see it. The face of someone he yearned for, for who knows how long. A face he thought he would never see again.
He could no longer hold himself together, chest churning and twisting in anguish. He couldn’t stand to watch the angel walk away again, and return to the depths of the ocean. The man had grown desperate for any kind of solace, especially one as unexpected as this. After what felt like years of waiting for something to happen, he finally encountered his innermost wishes. Will they ever meet again? It was likely not. He wanted to take this chance, and linger in its presence for a little while longer.
The man could slowly feel the numbness crawling into his body as he pulled the angel into a tight embrace. He refused to let go, despite its warning. He refused to let go until there was nothing left to hold. Aware of the consequences, he allowed himself this final embrace, knowing the last thing he would see is the angel. As they began to slip away, the red hue of the sun glistened on the water that began to soak their suits. It weighed them down as the tide drew them in with an alluring gaze. The sky closed in on them, blanketing their grief and sorrow.
Putting them to rest.