Blair
The shack with its peeling paint had outward shutters. The veranda hugged each corner. Blair lay in the hammock on the warm days covered in stains of rain.
The aged blue gum beams creaked in protest as she swayed among the thorns and roses. The tree looked over the morning mist which covered the ocean. She slept, as the sea slept. He looked over her, over the horizon for Tristan’s return as the eagle circled high above.
When winter made is miserable exit the wild flowers painted the bare canvas fields with yellow and blue.
When she walked around the village her shadow elegantly trailed behind, a reflection of her windswept mane, delicate lips, long black lashes, oh the eaves of her twinkling sea ice. The charm of a seahorse, her seductive spell tamed the wildest stallion.
She lay in the fields watching the wispy mist clouds blanketing the ancient ash giants deep within the valley. The dairy cows feasted on the fertile grass around her. A calf approached with its inquisitive bright saucer eyes. It warmed her day. Put a smile on her face.
The weather turned.
Tristan’s luminous body shone white phosphorus against the bruised and battered sky. He screamed a forewarning through the haunt in his glacier blue eyes. The lone wanderer demanded respect, awe, the potion of spellbinding silence.
He traced her scent. He held her arm delicately as he summoned the spirit of Borah. She lay intoxicated by the electricity of his thirst and sky. He placed her wrist between his unforgiving fangs, intent on quenching his insatiable thirst. The life slowly slipped away from her as she woke to the sound of the ocean.
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