#SoCS is soulful or has a sole

Ah, the great lady of Stream of Consciousness has challenged us again:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is β€œsoul/sole.” Use one, use both, use ’em any way you like. Enjoy!

Without further ado here is my contribution:

video credit: Amy Winehouse via YouTube

I swear I can hear Amy Winehouse singing over there in that little cove. Really? Soul Music? Was walking along the beach. My friend the jungle to my left and sister sea to my right. She looked so beautifully calm today. No grey or spray or wind gusts that blew me over like the first day I stepped out of the sea like Botticelli’s Venus. Hadn’t seen anyone since.Β  Made my way up the little path between a couple of palms that opened the view down towards the blue of the cove and… By my soul, I swear I expected Amy standing there in the middle with a microphone. Didn’t even question the fact that she was dead. Dead since when? Can’t remember. Just yesterday I heard a name called and turned around but there was no one. Just the gulls sailing along the sky and the waves washing up the beach. My friends would laugh at me if they’d see me with the bamboo stick in my hands. Had attached a string at the end that had washed up a couple of weeks ago. Never knew that shells can make such a good hook. Captain Hook? No that was something else but what? If only I could remember stuff. What was at the end of the sea? Does this place just fall over the edge or sail up into the sky? I remember sky and beach and sea, you know. But hey you aren’t there whoever you are. Am only talking to tortoises and gulls. Throaty noises I make. Smile. Yes, there was this sole yesterday. Never thought that old man showing me how to filet a flat fish could come in so handy. Who was he? That old man? Father? Maybe but what is a father? It was nice eating that sole. Didn’t taste like shoe sole at all. Giggle. Father? Can’t remember. But friends yes. Had many. We set off on a trip to somewhere and then nothing. No future no end. And the morning sun taunting me. Another day? Yes, getting up every day. Wash myself. Eat what I found the day before. It never gets cold. Good that. Walking out of the cave I made my home. It’s a little higher up than the beach. Beach gets flooded in stormy season. How long am I here? There is a stormy season and a calm season. Even stormy season isn’t cold just so damn damp. Slipping down the path to the beach in stormy season. But now it’s calm. Amy Winehouse still sings. Hear her. Tears dry on their own. What are tears? There is another voice. And..there…is…some… wood (?) swimming in the cove. Didn’t see it before. Now it comes into view around the bush.’..it’s…a boat. I remember. A boat. And there is someone. A woman. I remember “woman”. She waves at me. Shall I go? No, better not. I run. The other way. Back home. Panting. Falling in the sand. I hear Amy again… NO. Curling up in a ball. Rocking. Amy. Again and again Amy’s voice. A splash. Someone moving through water. Rocking. Just rocking. Forgetting. Rocking. A hand on my back: “Oh my god Ami, you poor soul, found you at last!”


This post takes part in Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Please head over and find many more soulful posts in the comments. Please visit them all πŸ™‚ you are worth it!!!!

Thanks Linda!


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