mariannelatex

Her heart belonged to a sailor. Every day she would stare out into the harbor, motionless for hours, a shawl drawn up around her shoulders, her soft wavy blond hair mostly pulled up but with long rebellious tendrils pulled out around her face. The salty air played at those tendrils and used them to tickle her face gently like ghostly fingers. Even when she knew it would be months before his ship would sail back to her and their humble home by the bay, she would still stare, hand over her heart, feeling the piece of her missing, the piece of her soul that he carried with him, but also feeling his presence there, in that hole she kept open in h