Tide
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She does not realize she has forgotten something (someone) until they are at the beach, as the waves chase after her running toes.
It is a ghost (brush of déjà vu) on the edge of her thoughts, only touching her once, and then she is running again, laughing through the endless waves as her father chases and her mother laughs.
Summer is bright and high, yellow heat everywhere, but the summer house is cool and dark like (something she cannot remember) the embrace of a misty morning. Her room is the highest, small and in the loft of the house made like a Western beach-home. She likes it there and thinks on how she would like to rest in her rolled bed as the waves crash against her ankles.
Sand shifts like peach-colored snow, dribbling through her fingers when she cups it in her hands, watching with quiet interest as she extends a cycle: the sand is washed ashore and she lifts it, watches it fall through her hands to the sea again. (The sea is blue; deep, unending blue, as a wide, wide river that stretches on forever, and she wonders what this river is...)
She loves the water and cannot explain it to her mother, who squeals when her father splashes at her. He chuckles at his wife and winks at Chihiro, who pauses to wrinkle her eyebrows together, suddenly wondering (why does Mom *squeal*?).
But then it is her turn to be splashed, and she laughs, turning and turning (falling through the air, smiling and crying) and splashing into the water. Droplets of froth fall up to the sky, and she drops beneath the waves, feeling the giving tug of the ocean.
Night comes and she sits on her bed, cross-legged and slowly eating a stolen candy of caramel. Starlight and the faint, dark blue rim of the ocean can be seen through the wooden cross of the circle window, and she pauses (her legs hang over the wooden edge, dangling as she bites into) chewing at the last sweet, tough bit.
If she glances just so out the window, feeling the toughness of the caramel slowly melting into chewy softness, she can see a ribbon of white dancing back and forth, in quiet loops, over the water. (Him, she thinks, and does not know why.)
She sneaks out in the morning, hoping to dash along the beach, bare feet in the wet sand as the tide slowly rolls in; Mom hates it when she runs barefoot on the beach, not paying any mind to the glass bottles high school kids might leave behind. (She is safe by the water, old magic and old memories.)
The sea smells brighter, fuller, deeper in the morning, brine and wind and tangy sharpness, and she can taste the caramel still in the back of her mouth. It is exotic, the taste of sugar and stickiness and the scent of salt and fish; if she closes her eyes, she can imagine she is hovering (between worlds, watching a parade of light and bathing gods) on the precipice of heaven. Oh, she loves the sea, the ocean, the river, waters that are deep and blue and remind her of...
She looks up and sees a boy. Dark, straight hair, in clothing too long for him: sweater sleeves out of place in summer heat, covering his hands, and long trousers that pillow in the sand as he crouches beside her, looking up while she stands. (Green eyes, narrow and angled to catch the light, and they are falling, falling, falling...)
"Oh," she says, startled. "Who are you?" (Doesn't she know this, she thinks; isn't she supposed to know him?)
He smiles sadly, distantly, and the salty wind sweeps through his dark slate hair in a shadowy cloud. "Hello, Chihiro," he says gently (and she still does not remember, though she knows him deeply, wholly inside) and his sweater brushes, brushes the sand as he moves slightly with the wind. "I thought I'd visit you with the tide." And the smile turns to radiance, quiet affection lit with ivory sunlight, and he holds the bottom of his hand up, asking and offering and simply existing.
"Hi," she replies, confused and not too sure how he knows who she is (love you, love you, as we fall to the sea, to the sea). "Are you new here?"
--
-
Disclaimer: Haku, Chihiro, and the Ogino family are the creations of Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.
--
-
She does not realize she has forgotten something (someone) until they are at the beach, as the waves chase after her running toes.
It is a ghost (brush of déjà vu) on the edge of her thoughts, only touching her once, and then she is running again, laughing through the endless waves as her father chases and her mother laughs.
Summer is bright and high, yellow heat everywhere, but the summer house is cool and dark like (something she cannot remember) the embrace of a misty morning. Her room is the highest, small and in the loft of the house made like a Western beach-home. She likes it there and thinks on how she would like to rest in her rolled bed as the waves crash against her ankles.
Sand shifts like peach-colored snow, dribbling through her fingers when she cups it in her hands, watching with quiet interest as she extends a cycle: the sand is washed ashore and she lifts it, watches it fall through her hands to the sea again. (The sea is blue; deep, unending blue, as a wide, wide river that stretches on forever, and she wonders what this river is...)
She loves the water and cannot explain it to her mother, who squeals when her father splashes at her. He chuckles at his wife and winks at Chihiro, who pauses to wrinkle her eyebrows together, suddenly wondering (why does Mom *squeal*?).
But then it is her turn to be splashed, and she laughs, turning and turning (falling through the air, smiling and crying) and splashing into the water. Droplets of froth fall up to the sky, and she drops beneath the waves, feeling the giving tug of the ocean.
Night comes and she sits on her bed, cross-legged and slowly eating a stolen candy of caramel. Starlight and the faint, dark blue rim of the ocean can be seen through the wooden cross of the circle window, and she pauses (her legs hang over the wooden edge, dangling as she bites into) chewing at the last sweet, tough bit.
If she glances just so out the window, feeling the toughness of the caramel slowly melting into chewy softness, she can see a ribbon of white dancing back and forth, in quiet loops, over the water. (Him, she thinks, and does not know why.)
She sneaks out in the morning, hoping to dash along the beach, bare feet in the wet sand as the tide slowly rolls in; Mom hates it when she runs barefoot on the beach, not paying any mind to the glass bottles high school kids might leave behind. (She is safe by the water, old magic and old memories.)
The sea smells brighter, fuller, deeper in the morning, brine and wind and tangy sharpness, and she can taste the caramel still in the back of her mouth. It is exotic, the taste of sugar and stickiness and the scent of salt and fish; if she closes her eyes, she can imagine she is hovering (between worlds, watching a parade of light and bathing gods) on the precipice of heaven. Oh, she loves the sea, the ocean, the river, waters that are deep and blue and remind her of...
She looks up and sees a boy. Dark, straight hair, in clothing too long for him: sweater sleeves out of place in summer heat, covering his hands, and long trousers that pillow in the sand as he crouches beside her, looking up while she stands. (Green eyes, narrow and angled to catch the light, and they are falling, falling, falling...)
"Oh," she says, startled. "Who are you?" (Doesn't she know this, she thinks; isn't she supposed to know him?)
He smiles sadly, distantly, and the salty wind sweeps through his dark slate hair in a shadowy cloud. "Hello, Chihiro," he says gently (and she still does not remember, though she knows him deeply, wholly inside) and his sweater brushes, brushes the sand as he moves slightly with the wind. "I thought I'd visit you with the tide." And the smile turns to radiance, quiet affection lit with ivory sunlight, and he holds the bottom of his hand up, asking and offering and simply existing.
"Hi," she replies, confused and not too sure how he knows who she is (love you, love you, as we fall to the sea, to the sea). "Are you new here?"
--
-
Disclaimer: Haku, Chihiro, and the Ogino family are the creations of Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli.