Blackwater Islands with no defenses but your defenses

so much to unpack between the gristle of words and tough sinew of embedded memories too set in their ways to be pried loose. 

ava listened as anathema unspooled her thoughts in scattered ribbons of context. ava’s own thoughts on the matter cast to the wind, where maybe one day her history would be one and the same with this place; her story as much the story of this rock-crashed beach. 

she closed her eyes; who could know if they were to stay? that was for an order much higher than her own to decide.