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 her heart for him. She could close her eyes and picture his rough, sea faded features, heavily scarred, but the clearest ice blue eyes. Eyes that would light up to see her no matter how spent and exhausted he had been before that moment. Her happiest moments were when he walked up the long dirt foot path with his sack of personal items slung over on