Wishing

When the ocean called, she answered. She had been waiting for a sign although she didn’t know for what. A siren song and the kisses that briny fog mist gave her marble skin made her feel that if the Universe was going to give her a sign, this must be it. She was bad at listening so she strained her ears and grasped at possible messages like straws.

She was drowning from wants and wishes. Her head was so full of deep, white hot dreams that she struggled to keep her footing and not let them pull her under. She spent so much of her time and energy barely treading the riptide of her heartache that she couldn’t get to anything less deep. She was trapped with dreams plugging her ears and filling her mouth with their bitter impossibilities. She was tired. She wanted help. So she strained her ears past the wishes and wants and dreams and heartache until she heard something, anything. She chased the sounds of waves crashing against rocks and sand until she couldn’t remember.

When she woke up, her crusted eyes demanded that she keep them closed. Crusted with salt from the sea and her tears, sand from the Sandman and the beach, she pretended that her eyes were covered in faerie dust and she made a wish as she rubbed it all away. Looking around, she could see that she was still on the beach. Her hair was tangled with sandy seaweed and water was lapping at her bare feet. On one foot, a sea star held onto a toe like a delicate friend checking in on her. The rest of the sea star rested lazily against an unopened, unlabeled bottle of Merlot. Curiously taking a closer look at her little sea friend and it’s mysterious bottle, she found that the cork was branded “drink me” like a Wonderland treat. There was no rabbit hole near and no tea party in sight but a mystical knowledge insists that magic is near and that, perhaps, Magic is here: An offering from the Universe to her specifically.

She took the bottle and left the star but not before wishing on it as she left it somewhere safe.

What does one do with a bottle of magic? The possibilities, fears, joys, doubts, selfishness... she felt every feeling all at once and it made her ultimately feel grief. It was a burden. She could have her deepest desires, darkest and lightest wishes, change the world, know and have all at her very finger tips with wine made by gods and tides. She could be loved and protect loved ones. The implications were fearsome as were the thoughts of it getting into the wrong hands, getting broken, and the inevitability that it would run out. Part of her wanted to put it back and give up the burden. Part of her wanted to keep it safe in a box under her bed where it could do neither good nor harm.

She walked the beach while she mulled over the wine. It was heavy in her hand and she felt each gritty piece of sand under her nails and between her fingers. When she paused to wash her hands and the bottle in the surf, she saw that she wasn’t alone anymore. There was a man fishing several yards away from her, knee deep in ocean.

She looked around. He was the only one around for miles it seemed. The Universe had spoken again.

She waded out into the tide, her toes digging in muddy sand and kelp. She stepped on something sharp and ended up with two beautiful halves of a whole shell. When she reached him, the first thing she did was ask if he wanted to share the bottle with her. He belonged in the ocean as much as she did. He was as alone as she was. They were both trying to survive. They both went to the sea looking for something. They were a pair like the two halves of the shell.

He accepted and opened the bottle with a tool on his vest. She couldn’t tell if he was surprised or enamored at drinking out of the shells but it was what had been given to her in much the same way as the bottle so sipping the Merlot from shells was what they did.

The wind blew her salty tangles to and fro. Another sea star found her toes. With each sip she heard all the sea stars praying for her. With each sip, the gentle bitterness of the wine told her of the bitterness that will come when the wine is gone and she couldn’t hear the prayers anymore. With each sip she took, she made a wish. With each sip he took, the wish was granted. The wine tasted like pearls and they were both right where they were supposed to be.