“We’ll carry you,” they said.
“It’s only steps away.”
The breeze blew memories of salt and sand and spray.
She raised her finger.
In her mind.
For the one that lay atop the sheets no longer knew
To move.
And yet
It was okay.
Because they understood quite perfectly
What she wanted
To say.
The gladness in her eyes.
The gift
Of yet another
Day.
“We’ll carry you,” they said.
Strong arms linked
As her heart thumped
In time to
The gentle sway.
It was only a few steps
To the water.
To the breathing
Gray surf
Of the bay.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt © CEAyr
Na'ama Yehuda 
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