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THE LAST LETTER…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRKZJo5tmqs

THE LAST LETTER…

Along the coast some miles away from the city at first the evening was somewhat sombre. As she sat on the chair overlooking the ocean she finally began to play the gift given to her by the stranger who was never meant to be more than that…

The winds howled and blew splatters of rain against the windows of her beach house not far from a small fishing village.  All so clearly, she could hear the voicing’s. It was as if nature itself was calling through a soft small voice. The atmosphere was now an invitation to surrender into an acoustic world of song. Finally the music that had been trapped inside the rhythm of her hips and feet were speaking through the lips of her fingertips. As she became one with this here guitar all her pent up emotions were released by licks and riffs all the while strumming along to her most recent memories..

As she played and she strummed she beat violently against the body of the instrument. It was almost as though she was possessed. Beautiful in the mirror this tess. Tears rolled out her eyes, down her cheeks and onto the lap of her scarlet red dress when she finally started writing letters in her mind. Part of her was filled with gladness. Part of her heart was touched by sadness. Because like some good things the fun had come to a close. And this dose was more than she could allow herself to have. It was time to head back to her home in the Mediterranean…

Memories in her mind now embedded in her heart of unexpected encounters with a man who she had  just met. A stranger who was not even her type. Yet somehow someone who stimulated the strings of her creativity. How ironic! Then the wind howled louder and blew swifter. So she laughed and cried at the same time knowing this will be the last of the letters she would write to him. And after this night, the last, he will come no more. No more will he write back to her for their journeys were parted toward forked destinations…

She thought of the many nights, the nights when they danced and they dipped and they swayed. Of the wine of red how they sipped and they tripped and they laid. The mornings entered days when she, a connoisseur of coffees and wines introduced to him to tastes of refinement he had never known before. To say the least there was a magical vibe between them that another could almost taste from the air around them. When they cooked the most exotic of cuisine there brew that melody. To it they added a remedy of spices and herbs, it was magnifique! She remembered his eyes, how they blinked every time he became mesmerized by her pulchritudinous demeanor. To him her eyes were erotic like an ocean calling. Although he never confessed somehow she knew the words that could not be uttered were expressed through other deeds of passion…

After a while when her hands became weary she then placed the guitar aside, selected a playlist and began to pen onto paper all that was in her mind. For his eyes only, she converted the visuals of some days into words on top of the creamy colored papyrus. She smiled as she remembered their walks on the beach to playing in the ocean cold. To laying inside a heated tub.Lots of laughter, thereafter rubbing down each other with expensive oils burning candles all around…

Laughter filled her mind as she penned about horseback riding to the hills together. Out in the wild thrifty on her feet she brought out the art of dance from him. Back, forth two salsa. One two cha, cha, cha. Hip, dip ooh la-la…encore.

Every pause was exhaled with a sigh and a sip of the wine. Now crumpled bits of paper spread across the floor. The more she wrote the more she lost the concept of time, all the while free flowing every encounter that had ensued. The conversations, the arguments, the secrets. Debates over things that never really mattered. Alas to glasses of drinks being thrown against the wall. Disagreements before fiery departures proceeded with silence for days. What was supposed to have been a passing shower was turning into a sunshine of inner warmth that could last forever…

On the last of nights she wrote the last of letters that would teach them that a once in a lifetime moment is much of a lesson of life. A stepping stone to a higher learning.

To not fear change for change is constant. To breathe is to live, to love, to cherish is to let go to free to be freed.

Right where you are for every good bye there is always a new hello…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TA8C8mI71S4

Copyright © 2018                            Bradley M. Tremmil

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Written by Bradley Tremmil

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