Christopher David Petersen
Copyright 2011 Christopher David Petersen
ES: Chapter 1
Abigail Stanton stood atop the highest point on the rocks and waited. The granite precipice was at least twenty feet above the seawater at high tide, but due to the passing winter storm, the surge raised the water to less than ten feet from where she stood. She trained her eyes on the violent waves that crashed into the rock face below her. Every third wave would break, then be drawn further out to sea than the previous wave. She could see crustaceans being torn from their desperate grasp and washed out to sea with the foam and spray.
As the black waves hit the wall below her, the momentum propelled the salty sea up over the top of the cliff, dousing her with frigid cold water. In the short time she stood and waited, her black Victorian-style dress became soaked and clung to her frail body as a second skin.
Clutched in her petite frozen hand were five daisies. Salt water rolled down her face, mixed with her tears and dripped onto the slightly wilted flowers. As she timed the waves, she counted out loud.