175 is the new 30 :)

At this rate it will take me at least 175 days to finish this story! I need to start busting this stuff out! Here it goes again!



I could feel an unfamiliar strength in my bones and a confidence seeping through me.
“Your hands are really warm. It feels nice,” I managed to say. A full blown smile traveled from his lips to his eyes where it danced a little.
“Thank you my dear. I take it your hands have been cold for a long time?” His voice was so drenched in compassion it made my heart beat fast and fresh tears flooded my eyes.
“There hasn't been anyone to hold them.” I choked out.
“I know.” He said quietly. And I believed, somehow, he did know. We sat there in the chill of the night, two strangers that knew each others souls. The fingers of the rising sun began to wave away the fog, revealing a much calmer sea. I leaned my head on the man's strong shoulders, letting his presence sooth me. I matched his steady breathing and gazed up at his constant joyous expression. It did not fade nor did it ebb. I had never seen anything more genuine. It was as if he had created the existence of joy itself.

“ Well now we walk.” He said, slapping his hands on the sand and heaving his large, yet lean frame into a standing position, never breaking his focus from me. The absence of his touch caused a strange feeling of withdrawal.
“Don't be sad my dear.” He extended his hand with a slight bow and I grasped at it like it was my life source. “You don't have to walk alone anymore.” I looked at him in complete awe. Who was this man? Walking leisurely across the cold sand, it hit me that this was one hundred percent insane. I had just spent the night holding hands with a man I had never met and now I was walking hand in hand with him down a beach where anyone could see me. Anyone. He could see me. I halted so abruptly, the strange man didn't have time to stop his own footsteps, which resulted in a slight dragging motion.
“Stop! Please stop. I can't do this. I have to go.” I said on the precipice of hysteria. He stopped and loosened his grip slightly.
“Can I ask why?” He almost begged. This struck me as odd. I had had men beg me for things many times before, but this was different. This was pure. I shook my head, trying to stay in the reality of the moment.
“Because if I don't go right now the people I love will pay for it.” I said, suddenly resolute in my decision.
“Because he will hurt them?” The man asked, his expression transforming from the lighthearted smile to one of knowing and intensity. How could this man possibly know about him?
He couldn't know about the man who had done nothing but use me, abuse me, starve me, beat me and sell me. He couldn't know about the wolf in sheep's clothing that had stolen me from the home that I loved and drowned me in the hell that had become my life. No one knew about that. The man leaned in so that I could feel his breath next to my ear. “I have a secret for you my dear. He has been quite thoroughly taken care of.” He pulled away and nonchalantly said, “You are free.” The word free was so removed from my vocabulary it took me a moment to process what he had said. I did not live in a world where freedom was permitted to be birthed. Every time it would rise up, it was quickly aborted.
“Free,” I muttered to see what the word felt like on my lips. It felt good.
Something started happening to my face. An expression that had long ago been put to death started to form on my lips.
“Now that smile would make my worst days okay.” The man said with an untainted loving tone.
“Who are you?” I asked, wanting to say his name, to write it upon my heart, to never forget this moment. The man released my hand and bent down to pick up a piece of a shattered shell and began to etch something into the soft ground beneath us.
“I am who I am?” I asked puzzled by his odd actions. He tossed the shell aside and raised his hands to the sky as if to embrace the salty air blowing in from the sea. Closing his eyes he said,
“I am who I am.”