The Bluestocking 2022-23

Jaime Rockwell | Grade 12 The Fog

Finally, it was evening. The bright sun was beginning to dim, leaving a beautiful orange tint that encapsulated the sky above. She walked down to the dock, their nightly ritual, which was her favourite thing about purchasing the vacation home. A financial stretch back then, but undeniably worth it now. She was proud of living a cliché, still ‘having the butterflies’ as she approached her husband sitting in his same favourite perch on the dock as he did every afternoon. He was always in a state of sophisticated relaxation, his feet resting in the cool autumn water, and preparing to stare into the early night sky. One of her favourite things at the end of a long (sometimes very long, no one had prepared her for the rigours of entrepreneurship) day was to sit in silence and admire his brown hair flecked with auburn, which he styled to fall past his forehead in a rare example of vanity. He usually pointed out the early stars, and his cool forest green eyes and his pale skin would reflect off the water. She often wondered how she got so lucky to be with someone who was loved by essentially anyone who crossed paths with him. His aura, his closeness, how he filled up all the spaces around her was all she ever need ed. They would spend hours on end talking about their deepest questions, to sitting in complete silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. True, it might seem repetitive over time to an outsider, but for the two of them, revisiting the same questions from different perspectives and adding new opinions just deepened their connection and this nightly ritual. They only needed each other’s company, true, but they had friends, of course. She was aware, especially recently, of the jealousy their connection invited. Not all marriages were as full and intense as theirs. This envy was occasionally palpable and, having lived through similar phases in high school and various other petty jealousies throughout her career, she knew to expect it and to try and take it in stride. Their neighbours in the tight knit, affluent waterfront community were always polite and pleasant when the couples passed one another, though recently she had noticed awkward silences and an avoidance of conversation when crossing paths. Was it that the two of them had recently started on a large renovation that had angered the vol unteer historic society, that they were still (intentionally) childless, still held hands or vacationed overseas and, thereby had too much obvious disposable income, too often? She could never be sure, but the security of what they shared prevented her from dwelling on this slight but noticeable change of attitude for too long.

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