I told Bernie to meet me at Blue Hole today after church.
Big soft lug didn’t ask why, just winked, nodded, carried on loading the barrels on the truck like Pa told him.
He’ll come alone – Bernie’s always alone when he’s not trailing after me.
I gaze out over the near-still water and the lake shows me how it got its name. It’s a mirror for the sky and the perfection of it makes a bubble of hurt swell and burst in my chest. It’s the bluest blue, like Callie’s eyes the day she told me no, the day she slipped below the glassy surface, leaving only her canvas shoes and a trail of bubbles behind.
If only Bernie hadn’t followed me down here that day, if only he hadn’t seen me bury those shoes.
A sound from behind makes me turn.
‘Hi Bernie,’ I say.
Written for What Pegman Saw, the prompt that uses Google Street View as its starting point. This week we visit Middle Torch Key in Florida and don’t ask me why such a stunningly beautiful spot made my mind turn this dark way – it’s just how I am.
I’ve been away from the blog a few weeks and how lovely it is to be back. I’ve been finishing up a submission package for my WIP. The cover letter has been crafted, synopsis pared down (again and again!), the opening pages tweaked to an inch of their lives and I’ve subbed to four agents. Expecting four rejections, but you never know, at least one of them may have something helpful to say.
Wish me luck.