Dreadful Promise - An Excerpt

And I let this go on for days and days. The Pacific Ocean streamed past me, blue and white and monotonous, lit by the light, bright sunrays. I watched the horizon and I sang her favorite song. I logged my travels but every word that wasn’t her name felt wrong. It was only eight days in and I didn’t know if I’d manage to scrape along.

I had brought along plenty of provisions. I had food and clean drinking water and dry clothes to keep me warm. All of that was a given. But who could have known that all of the preparation in the world wouldn’t help me survive if I didn’t have her by my side. Without her sleep-raspy voice murmuring encouragement to my wave-weary ears, how was I to find the shoreline? I might as well be blind.

~~~

Ten days in, I decided that I might as well be dead, too. The salt-air chapped my lips bloody. God, I ached for her lips. Her soft, mauve, nymph lips. Her heavenly, light-of-the-world-shone-through, angel lips. I ached to count each wrinkle in her full, silky lips.

One. Kiss. Two. Kiss. Three. Kiss. Four.

My lips had a cold sore and I kept picking at the scab.