Aberdeen Goodbye’s: ‘polly wants a cracker, think I should get off her first’ – nirvana

We stood in the sand staring out at the dark sea.  My eyes glanced all around me, and the lighthouse in the distance flickered reminders that there was and will always be a light for the search.

Oh, how I had grown fond of that lighthouse; of this beach and of its sand; of those I have met and known for such a little time.  I looked down the length of the beach and noticed that I could not see where the sand ended and cliffs began.  Glancing the other direction, the city-lights were the aurora I would not get to see.  Yet, they were so beautiful anyway.  Ahead of me, the waves crashed, and for a moment, I thought I could see iridescent games on the water’s surface.  They flickered, telling stories of the moon’s long and cloudless nights of the past.

The cold air chapped my lips, and I knew better than to linger long, though my short time here carried with it warmth I had stored for plenty of lifetimes.

I shuffled my feet in the sand and felt its graze one last time.  Resolved, I turned to go, and together, we left the water behind, still crashing as it always would – regardless of whether or not we were there to watch it.  There’s comfort in that.

There was a giggle at a message written rather largely in the sand. ‘H E L L O,’ it said. I passed by it and kept walking, but then stopped myself.

That was a question.  Someone was asking a question, and it needed an answer.  I turned around, again facing the beach I had resolved to leave and leaned down to pick up a branch that had recently washed up on the sand.  Under those words, I responded, slowly etching my mark in the sand to say, ‘Yes, I knew You were here. I was here, too.’

I wrote simply, ‘G O O D B Y E,’ and when finished, I stood up and walked away, more resolved than before.

We were silent.  The night was silent.  That’s the way goodbyes need to be.


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