Black Stones by John Luxton

All night the crashing of the waves had kept her awake.

But when at dawn she awoke from a fragment of sleep there was no memory of this.

No memory of anything

How they came to even be there – the drive through the barrens to arrive at the cabin after dusk.

The moment when she thought their love was ordinary and extraordinary, that it had some kind of blessed future.

I didn't know we lived by the ocean – was her first thought - kneeling on the bed, swinging open the window and peering out.

The exceptionally high tide had rimmed the shoreline with a new layer of laterally stacked shingle.

Black stones amongst the grey the brown the white caught her eye.

Slick elliptical and shiny – they cried out for further examination – like thoughts retrieved from the unconscious.



Part of the Journey to Sonora collection - stories and poems now!

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John Luxton