Sophia was back. But, she wasn't making love, of course. Right now, she would have taken a Chastity Vow and become a nun to get out of the situation she was in now. But, what was done was done. And, not even the nuns would want her.
She was sitting up on a gray boulder, watching the ocean's tide pull in and out. It looked as though it might storm later, as ominous gray clouds were filing in. The wind was picking up, the seagulls were flying around, and the salty spray was getting everywhere.
But, Sophia didn't care. The ocean was her place to think, even if there was a hurricane going on. The gust was whipping around the skirt of her navy skirt, with the white Peter Pan collar and trim, as if it were a piece of cloth, hitching a ride in the wind. Her hands were folded, and she was resting her head in them. By now, the bun she had gathered her red hair in had come loose, and it was spilling all over her face.
Not that her face was very pretty anymore. She was beginning to look tired and gaunt, and 'racoon lines' as she liked to call them, and mysteriously appeared around her eyes. Blackheads had began to dot up around her nose, and she was growing a small crop of pimples around her forehead to boot.
Inspite of all that, Sophia did manage to create a pretty picture. Perhaps if an art school bound student had been walking by, he would sit down, and sketch out a potrait of 'The Melancholy Figure On The Rock.' They would create a dreary mood, with the grays and blues creating a sad atmosphere, with even her being subdued.
Fortunately for Sophia, no artist was around, and she was grateful for that. She didn't need some shammy artist coming forth and making a show of her misery.
Instead, she'd rather climb out of this hole, and move on. No, she wasn't going to end up like her mother, a worthless, stay at home mother with seven kids.
She was bound to do much more than that.
Sat Jun 04, 2011 9:49 pm