Cold Water (A Polaroid Short Story)

I’m floating. My face bobs above the threshold of the bath water. Its starting to go cold but its a place to think. I close my eyes.

I’m back in the studio, with Sarah. We’re doing a fashion shoot for a uni project of hers and as always she’s made these spectacular dresses. Blue silk which flow to the floor brushing the ground in a sway as it moves. Small emblems embroiled onto the hip area to form a beautiful gem belt. Its really something. She can make such a work of art.

I dip my head further down into the water. The sound of the TV in the other room just drowns out instantly. Now its just me and my thoughts. Me and my memories.

The sun is creeping closer to its edge. Its burning out in its orange flaming glow and casting streaks of red across the sky. I’m at my favourite place to gather my thoughts. The cliff just beside the beach were the waves would crash below my feet and the sun sets on the far outer edge of the ocean. It was so peaceful and quiet here. It got me away from everything.

I feel a chill shudder through me, then a noise from the other room. I lift my head out the water slightly but nothings there. She’s not there.

 

The above is an elaborated extract from a screenplay I wrote and recently directed. The film is currently in production and shall be released via Vimeo and the ‘Polaroid’ website (currently being made) in the coming months.

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