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.
fromheretothere 
I reckon there’s no problem with us both using ‘atop’. It’s a nice word, and you get three for the price of one. But I think it really only works when writing historical-type fiction, which we’ve both done this week.
This is a lovely story btw, with some wonderful phrases. I especially like ‘the light of his return’.
Cheers, Claire. Yes, I agree. “Atop” only works if it doesn’t seem dated i.e. used in historical ramblings. Glad you liked that last phrase – wasn’t sure people would like it, or get it. However, I felt it had to stay as it worked for me. As for the subject, I am meandering my way through the Poldark books at the moment and I jumped at the chance to pay minor homage to Winston Graham. I hope he isn’t spinning in his grave 🙂
Can just imagine myself on a Cornish beach. Great post.
Thanks, Rachel. Got the Poldark bug at the moment and my head is full of Cornish coves, tin mines and the likes 🙂
How many women have waited for men to return from the sea? You wrote this well… 🙂
That’s lovely. An eternal story. There be songs.
This reminds me of the widow’s walks placed on turrets for women to watch for their men to come home from sea. You got an historic feel into every line.
Romantically sad. Poetic even 😉
What life must have been without modern communication devices…..Nicely done!
Very evocative. I felt the bitter breeze and her longing.
Tracey
Waiting, hoping, not knowing, so many people had to do this, and still do. Wonderful story. I’m a bit sad that atop is a dated word. I think it’s nice and descriptive. I’ll remember not to use it in the wrong context.
Dark, and yet upbeat. Well told. 🙂
Dear Paul,
A beautiful tale well told.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Personally, I think atop is a perfectly useful and serviceable word, and not ‘dated’ at all. And the story was fine, even if tragedy ain’t my favorite cuppa.
I liked this. The photo reminded me of Trebarwith Strand in Cornwall – and your piece fit the nature of the picture beautifully. Well done.
What a sad story. I feel her loneliness and despair. Beautifully described.
A poignant piece Paul: well done.
Very beautiful story – I loved it!
A beautifully sad story. You capture her loneliness really well. I wonder how long she’ll keep on waiting for him….?
The waiting of a sailors wife. A classic tale told beautifully
Beautiful, sad, hopeless and faithful all at once.
Beautiful and sad, my favorite combination.
Thanks again this week for all the likes and comments. As always, much appreciated.