Two Bodies

Somewhere beyond the sea… somewhere waiting for me… my lover stands on golden sands… and watches the ships that go sailin’…

The lull and cresting crackle of the needle in its vinyl groove is soothing. A continuous background purr as the record spins, the speakers pulse, the empty air of the room is filled with music. Two bodies slot together perfectly, hip to hip, chest to chest, turning a small circle in time with the melody embracing them, lifted by lyrics as they lean on one another.

The view from the window, were they to take the time to look, is breathtaking. Waves roar as they crash, slipping along the sand and stripping it from the beach in a frothy claim. Seagulls caw and dive overhead, a child draws wet faces with a twig, a couple walk arm in arm dangling shoes from absent fingers and leave a trail of sinking footprints behind them as they pass.

Time passes. The sun slips across the sky, and more of the sand is swallowed. Two bodies slot together perfectly, hips around hips, chest against chest. Chasing forgiveness, clinging to memories, clutching for hope.

Sadness dims lingering looks, defeat taints tentative kisses, regret fills every movement as actions try to replace what words have lost the ability say. Silent goodbyes have already begun; this last attempt at reconciliation doomed to fail, because when a heart isn’t in it, the last thing you can lie to is a heart.

The needle lifts from the vinyl, the arm shifts and drops it back down, and the crest and crackle begins over once again. The whir of the vinyl turning blurs into the sound of the sea, as two bodies move together to fill the time until they must permanently part.

She thinks she hears a noise, lays her palm between his shoulder blades, whispers for him to still. He pauses, turns his head, listens, hears nothing. Rolls his hips again, an instant distraction for them both.

The second time he hears it; the scratch against the window, the dull thud of the door. A soft wail has them stopping, looking at one another with wild eyes, straining to hear it yet again.

The third time the wail feels closer yet simultaneously far away, but it is accompanied by a sense of being observed that clings to their skin like the cold sea air. He shifts, rolls beside her, unconsciously takes her hand.

By the time they stand, bared in every way imaginable, their hearts beat in a sync they haven’t found in months. Pulsing, rapid, fearful, as the vinyl crests and falls, mimicking the waves beyond their window. The wail is louder yet untraceable, stepping up behind them to suggest a whisper in an ear before spinning away again.

Too terrified to move, they cling and shiver into one another, teeth chattering and skin dimpling against the blast of coldness swirling through the air around them. One final, piercing solitary wail, and it becomes a symphony of three.

Two bodies slump together, a tangle of limp, lifeless limbs, blood mingling as it wicks up in the carpet. There is silence in the air now, calm contrasting cruelly with the linger of screaming.

The vinyl squeaks to an abrupt cease, the needle hovering in mid air held up as though by an unseen hand. Drops down again. The turntable comes to life once more, filling the air with the crest and crackle of the vinyl as it spins.

Somewhere beyond the sea… somewhere waiting for me… my lover stands on golden sands… and watches the ships that go sailin’…

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