Her

They say my story began back about 16 years ago. It was a Thursday like any other I guess except for the fact bein’ that I was born into the world. I don’t know my mother. Don’t know my father either so being born into this world is a bit of a strange idea. Who borned me? I'm not sure and I'm not sure I really care. The Lord knew me. He made me and I guess that’s good enough for me.

My life began under the canopy of a an old discarded fishing boat up the coast a fair bit, around the place the rock sticks right out over the ocean. Further than any other rock they say. Its legendary, apparently you can’t miss it. That was the first impression of the world on my tiny forming mind. I guess you could say I was abandoned. You could say no one wanted me and I was left to die. No mother, no father and no name. I guess you could say I entered this world unnoticed. But to me that old discarded fishing boat provided a refuge, a safe canopy from the outside world. Maybe it was like an extended womb. Maybe God knew I wasn’t ready for the world and was happy to keep me safe under the frailty of the sea rotted wood. Who knows really?

It was a bit of a strange beginning and the start of a life a bit different. They say I must have been under that boat for about a week before I became noticed by the world. After a week of no food, no clothes and no name I was stumbled upon by her. Young and fair with the burden of an old war veteran weighing on her shoulders., she was running from a life she could no longer put up with.

I guess I was making some kind of a racket for her to have found me. She was said to be walking the plank. What they mean by that is that she was walking the rock out into the ocean with the intent of giving herself to the sea. Like I said she was running from a life she could no longer put up with. But it was also a life she could not escape easily or even at all. In her mind this was the escape.

Barefooted she ran to the edge of the rock with her eyes hidden by the smeary dark remains of a girl pretending to be a woman. As she stood panting, staring out at the vast blue before her, she heard me, my lungs pushing out all the air they had, in order to get someone’s attention. Slowly she turned her head around and walked cautiously towards my boat. After a few minutes she knelt down on the harsh ground and peered with wonder under the canopy. That was the first time our eyes met.