The dull copper light of the early rising sun tinged the darkness of retreating night. Distant stars, overwhelmed, faded into the obscurity of encroaching day.
The ground beneath her was cold and damp, the chilly dew soaked into her jeans, freezing her bottom. She lay back and looked up into slowly transitioning skies.
“What happens now?” A plume of vapour filled the air with her whispered question. She had been reluctant to ask, filled with a sense that the sound would break the perfection of the moment.
There was no reply beyond the sound of birdsong from the trees around her.
He lay on the sand, looking up into the purple skies of the twilight hour. The extreme heat of the sun had warmed the ground beneath him and he felt the uncomfortable prickling of it on his skin as it seeped into the soft flesh of his body. The sound of waves, lapping at the shore, filled his ears. The gentle clacking of pebbles, pulled back into the ocean depths, a random percussion that lulled him into a meditative state.
“What happens now?” He cried into the night.
She lay there for an hour, watching the world wake, a rabbit had scrambled from its warren not far from where she lay, it sniffed at her toes and hopped on past her. The dawn chorus had morphed into a cacophony of sound, like the chanting crowds of a football stadium. “There must be more than this.” She sighed, her thoughts still lost in the labyrinth of her mind.
He lay there for an hour, watching the world fall into sleep, a crab scrambled from under a rock not far from where he lay. “There must be more than this.” He sighed as the creeping ocean water tickled his feet.
(c) Madelaine Taylor