Crease of His Uniform

Captured on the ferry from North to South Island, NZ

He held me close that night, as close as he could without disturbing the crease of his uniform. The sky above us twinkled as bright as it could. The wind caressing my hair and he as always flicking them back to the ears with his eyebrows displaying his anger towards the imperfections of the wind.

I stood there surrendered into his arms seeking answers from his eyes that were soaked in ecstasy of the moment. “It won’t be long my love. It’s a matter of six months”, he said in a low voice. That night, I heard it louder than the waves which were at their peak as the Moon had just risen. My silence had solidified into a smile in the last two years. My fears were on adrenaline but my eyes still hadn’t learnt to adjust them with the smile.

The pain of departure was a routine now. The fear of not knowing anything left me shattered every time he left. All I knew was that a phone call made him go back to his duty that night. The news channels had only added to my anxieties. My face was full of questions which will not be answered.

He planted his lips on my impatient eyebrows further solidifying my smile. The time had come. The ship called out for its captain. He embraced the wild waves by merging into them and I stood there with the ocean inside me. The captain led his ship into the madness and his wife continues to wait for the tide…

PS: The story is a work of fiction from writer’s experiences and imagination. Any relation to someone dead or living is purely coincidental.

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