From atop the cliffs overlooking Trezawna beach, she watched. It was another near moonless night – nought but a single, distant, silver star cast its reflection upon the dark waters of St. Gorren Bay.
Once still seas were slowly moved to anger by a strengthening, bitter, autumn breeze. Within the folds of her woollen cloak their infant son slept, warm and safe. Eliza wiped away a tear, before beginning the long walk home.
More than half a year may have passed since he’d sailed, but she would still be back tomorrow at nightfall, expecting to see the light of his return.
These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.