The cliffs trembled against the mighty roar of the ocean. The crashing of the waves thundered through the air, frothing against the steadfast stone which stood strong, barricading the ocean from its onslaught. The marble veins of the rock face contorted into rivers, bleeding silver and echoing an ancient verse as it reached out towards the height of their fortress, sun-kissed against the dimming light of the sun. The wind rolled by, breathing a soft sigh as it stumbled for a foothold in the sky heading towards the western lands where flashing lights could be seen, harsh and fierce against the horizon.
Atop the cliffs stood a man enveloped in a burning flame of light. He wore a melancholy expression as he swayed in the salt-sprayed breeze. The loose flowers clutched in his scarred, age-spotted hand fluttered, tickling his paper-like skin. Several petals allowed themselves to be carried by the breath of the earth pulling away from the tattered bouquet of wildflowers.
He was a clean-cut man once, with chiselled features and striking blue eyes framed by short locks of brown hair. But now, many years later, his grey matted hair brushed against his shoulders, framing his sorrowful expression. His eyelids hung heavily, framed by crow lines and soft wrinkles whilst a full, streaked beard softened the harsh angles of his jaw. His figure stooped ever-so slightly, curving towards the grass which lay compacted beneath his polished cap toes. The wind encircled the clothes that strained against his enfeebled torso leaving only a thick band of gold wrapped around his ring finger and a watch that no longer conformed to time in a secure hold on his body.
The sun seemed to wait at the horizon, pausing for the man who watched with tired eyes. His left hand brushed against his waistcoat, pausing at the embroidered pocket to stroke the cool object residing within. Upon the pocket a single blue lotus flower stood proud. The woollen material of the waistcoat felt harsh against his weathered fingertips as they trailed up to his collar. His brittle nails tugged twice at the silk fabric of his tie which embellished a pattern of carnations.
A content sigh left his chapped lips. His pale eyes closed, the embers of the sun illuminating the darkness as a force of wind pushed forth against the man, embracing him in a spray of coastal air, inviting him closer to the halted light. Opening his eyes once more an ethereal light burst forth in front of him. The wind seemed to slow, the sea quietened, and the smell of salt was replaced with a light fragrance of rose... la fleur de l'amour.
It drew him forward, the familiar scent that brought a smile to his lips. From the white light a singular hand emerged patterned with an array of sunspots. Upon their ring finger a thin gold band supporting an emerald glinted in the luminescence. He reached out, grasping the flowers in his hand as a sob left his trembling lips.
He had waited. He had watched those he loved grow, age and leave. But now it was his turn… So, he leant down, brought that familiar hand to his lips and placed a long-awaited kiss upon the green gem as a warm, white blaze encompassed his body.
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