Want to see some really great photography? Scott Marshall’s photography is just that. His blog ‘Land-Sea-Sky – Lathail’ showcases his images which include his favourites; landscape, seascape and skyscape photography.
Scott has offered this image as inspiration for a short story. This particular image is a departure from the norm for Scott. As with all artists, stretching and expanding one’s concepts is as inevitable and evolutionary as the wonderful planet upon which we live. Please visit Scott’s website to see more of his wonderful images.
A closer look was all she said; three harmless words that brought tragedy and grief to some, humour and bewilderment to others.
The day had begun so well.
We enjoyed the comraderie, the blue sky, the endearing rush of adrenaline as we soared with the elements that day. What was to unfold, none of us could tell.
The walk had been grand; the sight, a vision to behold.
Then, without warning she left. She picked up her weary body and left.
Without a word she walked away; we did not know why. We each surmised the day had taken its toll.
She’d had bad news some few weeks earlier. She’d not taken it well. There was a strange sight of a face ashen, without its usual colour.
Even so, she came with us.
It wasn’t until the clouds began hovering overhead we guessed her mood had changed. It wasn’t until she spoke those three words, we understood.
“A closer look,” she had said. “Take a closer look at our lives. We four, friends forever; and yet, what do we really know about each other? What would you know about how I long for company alone in my bed? What do you know about the days of tears and reminiscing that keep me company? What do you really know about me?” And then she left.
She headed for her home; it was but a short walk.
We stayed; we weren’t about to move.
The view was so spectacular; the fresh air electric.
Oh yes, we knew of what she spoke.
We knew our lives were shallow and yet, what was she to expect.
We each had not been spared the ravages of age, of lack, of aloneness.
Did she think her husband’s death was any less painful than ours?
We each knew that ‘time’ would be her friend, as it has become ours.