Wild Flower | Dark

Collections / Recent Posts / October 21, 2015

17 sundays wild flower collection summer 2015 | www.17sundays.com

When she joined them by the fire it was palpable. She could feel it building. The intensity of the dark taking over from the setting sun. The flickering light bounced off the smooth angles of her face and shone in the depths of her eyes. Bright and dark at the same time. The night lay ahead of her, stretched bare exposed and waiting. Anything could happen.

Come morning she had no idea if she would still be here with them. If she would be bathed in the salt of the ocean, hair wet against her bare back. Maybe even pressed against the sand and the weight of a body beside her. On top of her? The night holds sweet darkness and as it descends the rhythm of her heart quickens. She was excited now; flushed and warm.

A coincidental glance across the flames and they see each other. The moment ends quickly, moving past like the cool sea breeze, and it’s not enough. She blinks, turns away from the heat of the fire and the moment of charged connection. Not willing to see more than she did for now.

17 sundays wild flower collection summer 2015 | www.17sundays.com

Thinking how the beach always makes her crave all that life offers and with desire pulsing in her ears she reaches into the ice. Removing from the depths a bottle. Flipping the cap and taking long, icy swallows, she’s somewhat satisfied. Grabbing another, she turns her back on the group to find the quiet.

The sounds of nature rush back in as the night sounds build. It’s a reminder that they are the guests here. A wall of trees surrounds her in darkness and relative quiet. Pushing her legs out in front of her she reclines against the firm curve of a tree. She lists her favourite songs in her head as a way to wind down, and at the same time wind up. It was almost time. She discards the second glass bottle next to her in the sand. Draws breath deeply. Leaves her inhibitions behind.

17 sundays wild flower collection summer 2015 04

This night is hers. It would never come again. She readies herself to embrace the dark. This is her story. Wild flower.

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