At The Beach

Jan
2012

posted by Kaylie Newell on Beachwalk Press

It was a long way from home.

Cora stood close to the cliffs, but not close enough that she could see completely over the edge. She’d always been afraid of heights and just watching dark, turbulent waves below put a knot in her stomach. They reared up, foam crowning their watery heads, and rammed themselves into the rocks as if with a pent up, mystic anger.

She shivered in the chilly,Oregon mist and felt homesick for the rollingPennsylvania farmland where she had been born and raised. And had never been away from before.

Until now.

Turning, she looked back at the large, white house. It crouched at the edge of the forest, its dark windows taking the form of empty eyes which stared out at the sea. It was beautiful. Breathtaking, really. But something about it left Cora feeling cold inside.

Sighing, she jammed her hands deeper into her fleece-lined pockets, seeking warmth that always seemed to be just out of reach here.

The house was old. Run down. Past its prime. But her Aunt Debbie was certain its Victorian charm would be the perfect partnership for a quaint, seaside bed and breakfast. Cora had been volunteered to help by her father who was taking a sabbatical from his job as a professor atPenn State, to teach in Japan for a year.

“It’s an opportunity I can’t pass up, kiddo,” he’d said. “I know you don’t want to go with me. I’m not going to make you.”

Cora had cried then, not wanting to go, but not wanting to stay, either. The truth was, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore.

“You need something that I can’t give you right now,” he’d said.

She’d opened her mouth to argue, but he put a hand up to stop her.

“Nope. I know I’m right. Spending some time with your aunt will be good for you. Getting you out of here will be even better.” He hugged her, but she remained stiff and angry.

“She can’t take the place of mom, daddy.”

“I know she can’t.”

“I don’t want to go,” Cora had sobbed into his shoulder, feeling much younger than her seventeen years. What she really wanted, more than anything else, was to have her mother back.

“You’ll love it,” he’d stroked her hair awkwardly, comforting her the best way he knew how. “You’ll see.”

And now here she was. Transplanted against her will to the west coast for an entire year.

Cora startled at the sound of footsteps coming up the gravel walkway. The grumpy wind whipped her hair in her eyes and she brushed it back with one hand.

Turning, she expected to see her aunt in a pair of paint spattered overalls, wearing her signature goofy grin.

But there was no one there.

Thanks so much for stopping by! Posting this micro story was a lot of fun. I’d love to keep it up if you’d like to read more. Let me know by posting a comment below!

Tomorrow’s post will be by Beachwalk Author, Theresa Stillwagon. Link below