They say that long ago a young girl fell in love. They say that when her hand first touched his, a shiver rippled down her hand, filled her, and rushed out through her toes. So deep was the ripple that even the sand shook and the ocean waves were stilled: just for a moment.
They were married by the sea.
But the love was one sided. After a while, and as is common among boys, his affection cooled, and he despised her. He began to scream out his own hatred and insecurities at her. His hate would not be pacified.
But still her love would not diminish. She clung to him like a barnacle on a storm-battered rock: covered in the salt of her own tears.
They say that his hatred for her burned hotter and hotter until that night.
Some say she fell into the sea. Others say that she jumped. Still others whisper that he drowned her under a harvest moon.Some even say they can still see her face on the ocean when the water is black and the moon is full.
Note: That’s where my mind went with that one. Where does yours go? Comment with your own free-write.