Along The Trail
“It’s not something I want to talk about,” she answers simply. Friends for long enough to sense when something was too painful, they simply stop talking for a moment. The curve of the trail leads along the lip of the cliffs, close enough to taunt the wind. In a moment they will wade through tall grasses and clamber on the edge of the land. The sea continues the tumult which has carved out the magnificent sculptures of rock over the eons, its voice more appropriate than that of either woman to the sadness they’re trying to forget. They clasp hands for a moment, then smile, and continue on their way. The woman who has deferred to silence notices that something is gone from her friend’s smile now.