It's Still Life

Sitting on a Bench Dedicated to Those Who Felt the Need to Jump

There’s something about the beauty of this place, Beachy Head, that draws people in and magnifies that terrifying first rush of one more morning … one part not wanting to be in pain, one part beyond numb, one part wishing for another fabric of eternity, one part calling in a promise from an ace of spades, one part a return to the light of childhood, the street, the house, the river, the cat or the dog.

There’s an impassable rawness in the nature here – chalk cliffs that coax emotions over the edge … not a place for unsteady feet.

I come here often, just to feel alive, to feel awake, to remember who I am, to be rocked and slapped by the unforgiving hand of the Atlantic’s wind.

“Good morning, madam, says the Beachy Head chaplain who oversees souls searching for an epilogue, “Are you okay?”.

“I am gloriously okay, thank you,” I reply, “and how are you, chaplain … he smiles and looks out to sea toward the faint shores of France. I suspect not many ask after his well-being.

This photo was taken nearby the old Coastguard Cottages at Cuckmere Haven, Seaford in Sussex. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose. The prose is written to Denise’s Six Sentence Story prompt and includes the word “ace”. ©Misky 2006-2024.