The Story


They were at the water’s edge.

He had something in his hand, and too late, she saw it fall.

It floated on the surface for a while,

the water gently washing over the cover,

mottled brown and gold.

Bound with a silk ribbon.


‘It’s not too late,’ she said. ‘I can maybe reach out and save it’.


She stepped forward.

To stop it floating further away.

The boy watched, his silence defeating her.


Gradually, the book slipped below the surface,

gently down as they watched.

She noticed how clear the water was,

and how shallow too.

Perhaps she could still rescue the precious book,

the story she so loved,

but it was already out of reach.


Illuminated below the surface,

the book shone brightly in the sunlight,

but its purpose achieved,

it slowly disappeared.

Dissolving into the glistening pebbles of the river bed.


About maskednative

I live in Ireland, in an extended cottage overlooking Waterford Estuary, privvy to constant changes of light on water, colour and movement, tides and people. I am anglo-Irish and although my initial intention was to live here for a year and a day, I am still here, a blow-in to these shores for the past fifteen years. There have been countless times when I wanted to run back to England with homesickness and relief, but for one reason or another, so far, it has not been possible. I surrender, the soul of Ireland has captured me, allowed a glimpse of the world behind the mask of everyday experiences, bringing forth a mixture of words and pictures from an ordinary everyday life, filled with ordinary everydayness that I offer as a celebration, to the creator of this truly wonderful planet.
This entry was posted in Life, Love and the Universe and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to The Story

  1. nice, Teri…the book left…the story remained…a lasting meaning created…


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