Looking for some general feedback.
As the title says, looking for some feedback. I am still not comfortable with dialogue so there is none yet. Thanks in advance.
//No Title//
She stood up on the deck, her body outlined in the sun, skin softened by the warm water. Her timid voice called out to me, the words were lost against the swelling sea. The tide never seemed to raise or fall then, it seemed as though the sea was sick with no intention of recovery, and it must have been contagious.
Mist cooled us when it sprayed in front of the sun, the smell of our burnt skin and salt mixed together. Our drinks sat near the stained edge of the concrete ledge. The wooden docks extended far into the water, breaking the waves so we could sit undisturbed.
We continued to meet where we first had, the docks were abandoned now and mostly forgotten by the town. The last time I visited they were being used as intended, the men working, the ships floating in and out carrying their goods across the sea. I remembered nothing changed when I learnt of her cousin buying the docks. I didn't truly know if it was her real cousin, or even relative, I had only seen the familiar last name in the news article covering the sale. In my mind all three of them are
related, her, the cousin and the docks, I couldn't keep them apart.
I recall that we sat for a while longer then we might have any other night, the wind was low and she was slow to drink. She had asked me, in between small sips, what I thought of this or that, which recent films I watched or how I could prefer Bolano to De Sade. We passed time together because we both had the time to spare, We had found each other just like these waves and wall do, I was always here, and she was always moving. She traveled around looking for what she though ought to be there, while I had stopped looking before we ever met. The tide had lowered, the sun had been replaced by the moon as we talked, our bodies were still warm from the sun, and our drinks had been drank with conversation. I don't know how our night ended, probably like those before. She would say she was going to run off and I would tell her I was staying. That night she kept her word.
She went to the docks before leaving. The sun was low and the wind had blown her hair into a mess, her small voice was lost in the sound of the waves. I already knew nothing could be done before She turned to run, I lowered myself onto the concrete ledge and sat down to watch the sun rise. That was the last I seen of her. Her words which had turned to waves were a last gift to me, a parting favor to remind me that she would always be gone, yet there was a lingering hope in me that she would be sitting on the ledge, in the sun, watching the waves crash into the docks again one day.
