Photo by Олег Мороз on Unsplash
I am a practical, disciplined man
shaped by twenty years in the Navy. Adventure and challenge defined me, yet the
exodus from Afghanistan left a hollow ache. Retirement offered freedom but also
emptiness. Seeking clarity, I arrived at the Meher Spiritual Center in Myrtle
Beach, hoping to heal the fractures of my soul.
On the evening of October 7th,
beneath the harvest moon, I walked the beach. The breeze carried salt and
warmth, and the tide whispered secrets. Then I heard it—a faint melody,
delicate and sorrowful—Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. My feet moved south, drawn
by the music, beyond the center’s property, beyond reason.
Over a high dune, I stopped. There she
was. Or was it a vision? An angel? A mermaid risen from the surf? Moonlight
drenched her in silver and gold. Her gown flowed like liquid light, her red and
gold hair cascading over bare shoulders kissed by the waves. She raised her
arms to the heavens. The Sonata flowing through her—through me.
Tears glimmered on her cheeks. Diamonds
she brushed away, yet sorrow lingered. Her eyes—deep green, fathomless—caught
mine. My chest tightened. The world shifted. I was drowning in her gaze, pulled
by tides unseen.
She glided toward me across the sand.
Time stilled. The universe narrowed. Our embrace inevitable. Our hearts beat as
one. When our lips met, the world disappeared. The Sonata swelled around us,
carrying us through cosmoses of light and color, desire and memory intertwined.
In that kiss, I glimpsed lifetimes—past and future, vows eternal, love unbroken
across time. Our bodies connected in love. I held her close, whispering words
of love not forgotten. She never spoke. We lay together for hours, and at some
point, I fell asleep.
When my eyes opened, the moon was
veiled behind clouds. My arms were empty. She was gone. Yet I could still feel
her warmth, the ghost of her touch, and the lingering taste of her lips. My
soul ached, hollowed by her absence.
I wandered the shore until dawn,
following whispers of her melody on the wind and tide. But the night held its
secret. Was she real? A siren of the Moonlight Sonata? A spirit of longing? Or
had the universe given me a fleeting glimpse of a heart’s eternal desire?
Her beauty lingered in my senses—the
shimmer of her hair, the silk of her gown, the pulse of her kiss. The memory of
her left me breathless, yearning, haunted. Even in her absence, she had claimed
a piece of me, stolen it into the moonlight, leaving only longing in its wake.
Wherever she is, whether she is of this
world or another. But I know this: I had found my goddess, my moonlit
enchantress, and a part of me would remain lost to her forever.
I will never stop searching for her,
drawn forever by the haunting music, the moonlight, and the promise of a love
that defies time. Whatever her purpose, I was at peace.
© Yolanda Renée 2025
500 Words
Formerly published on August 17, 2022, for the WEP, rewritten for this year’s Halloween Celebration.
HAPPY
HALLOWEEN!
Photo by Doriana Popa on Unsplash
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