Sitting in the Dark

They weren’t there this morning though I’d seen them the two mornings before. There were at least two of them. That is at least two occupied the deckchairs, there could have been one more sitting on the sand but it was too dark to tell. Were they the same people I’d seen a week or so ago, both with sticks, hobbling their way onto the beach? The deckchairs were always placed in the same way, facing Aberdovey rather than the sea. Well, why would you? he said at breakfast, you can’t see the sea in the dark. Fair point but then why sit there? The beach slopes and it’s stony and cold first thing. But I like such eccentricity. After all look at my habits. Two lads were sitting on a bench on the Perygl as I walked along it today. I couldn’t make them out very distinctly. I saw the white of their trainers first. They talked quietly, as if respecting the stillness of the morning, heavy with cloud.

I watch her life from afar and remain a little entranced. I don’t want it for myself but I am made curious by her continued hopefulness and the way she sets out on each new adventure washed clean of her past. Good luck to her I say. Isn’t any kind of joy worth celebrating? Don’t we all feel some of its glow?

By Ellen Bell

Artist and writer currently living in Aberystwyth.