vignette (the sea).

a home on the sea. it seemed to suit her.
this was a place to observe elements. wind to shape stone, water to mold soil; like the blood of the earth had discovered pride of place, at last mindless, hopeless, and wild.
she'd often thought of the water, its terrible freedom. what of this beaten steel color? of gray, black, blue, green? each shade discernible, yet indelibly similar.

perhaps in continual inconstancy, she ventures, there is a certain sense of consistency.
perhaps in the steel of young women, there are beaten flints of color.

she shimmers past, promises present, bleeds future. standing at the helm of herself, she is bound only by this overwhelming current; this, of the ancient, of the female, of the consistently inconstant, of the sea.