Faraway – #writephoto

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Photo by Sue Vincent

Ed walked over a small rise and was surprised to find himself at the water’s edge.  Wasn’t he walking through the moors far from the seaside?  Yes, far, far away.  Where was he?  He turned around, but heavy fog covered the land.

A sound filled the air.  There was the soft churning of the waves, but something else. He imagined the sound from the ocean as a carrier wave for a more complex noise.

Ed turned and walked down towards the point of land in front of him, drawn by the sound, which was resolving itself into an unearthly music.

The land went out to a point in the water.  Waves came in from two directions, meeting in a line off of the point.

Ed stood on the last rock and watched the waves, mesmerized by their movement.  He looked off into the distance, following the arrow created where the waves met.  An arrow pointing far away.

“Pointing to another world,” Ed thought.  “Pointing to Faraway.”

He turned back.  The fog had followed him, erasing everything as it came.  There was just the wall of nothing on one side and the sea on the other.  The ocean with the faraway music lulling him, enticing him, drawing him into the cold waters.

The music grew louder.  He now heard voices mixed in, singing.  He recognized the voice he had heard back at the waterfall.   He didn’t understand the language, but he heard his name being called.  It was his name, only it wasn’t “Ed” or “Edward” or anything else he had heard before.

He tried to say the name he knew was his.  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

He stepped out into the water.  There was a sandbar and a few rocky outcroppings following the line of the waves.  He went farther and farther out.  After what seemed to be hours of sloshing through the waves, he was chest deep.  He turned to catch a glimpse of the faraway shore, but the fog had followed him.

His name was now being said very clear.

He again tried to repeat it, but all that came out was a moan.

“Are you awake, dearie?”

Ed opened his eyes.

He was in a bed in a strange room.

“Where am I?”

“You’re OK.  Seems you had a bit of a fall.”  Ed saw the woman who was perhaps in her late 60s, maybe early 70s.  “Some hikers found you sprawled out by the pretty little falls out there.  You didn’t seem badly injured, but you were unconscious.  Marv, I mean Dr. Smyth, said you had a few nasty bruises on your chest and legs, but were otherwise alright.  He said you were just sleeping.  He guessed you haven’t had any in days.  We checked into and found that you just arrived from America and so figured he was right.  You needed that sleep, and I brought you home.  So here we are.”

“Uhm, thanks.”

“How are you feeling?  Hungry?”

With the sleep now gone, Ed realized he was famished.  “I think I’m fine.  And yes, I’m starved.”

“Good.  Come down when you are ready.  I prepared a hearty breakfast.”

Ed threw the covers off and leaped out of the bed.  He was surprised at how fresh he felt as he sprang up.  It was if the years had rolled back and he was 20 again.

His hostess blushed and turned away.

“Your clothes are over there.  They were pretty soiled from your fall, so I had them cleaned.  Come down when you are ready.”

She quickly left the room.  Ed could hear her going down the stairs.

He looked down at himself and realized that the only thing he was wearing was a wrap around one of his legs and a few smaller bandages.  For a moment he turned red.  Who had undressed him?  He decided it must have been the doctor and felt better.

Humming a strange tune, he put his clothes on.  The song he was humming was familiar, yet odd.  Schoenberg would have been impressed with the complexity of the melody, yet it was as catchy as a Beatles tune.

A name came to mind, yet it wasn’t clear.  Ed felt uneasy, as if a great truth was just in front of him, but he couldn’t quite make it out.  It was as if he were too close.

Fully dressed, he descended down towards the heavenly scent of the breakfast and coffee.  His humming changed to a Beatles tune, The Fool on the Hill.  The faraway beach and the name were totally forgotten.

— —

Yes, I am making a new serial story.  This is Part 4.  Part 3 is here.  Part 2 is here and part 1 here.

— — —

This was written for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge.  See this week’s challenge here.

— —

Chapter 5 was just posted.

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11 thoughts on “Faraway – #writephoto

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