It started by accident on that day. - that terrible, terrible day. Funny, she recalled, that while everything else had ended, this is where it had begun. She had been confused, shocked, lost. Had she wanted to die? She hadn’t thought so But now looking back? Maybe. What could she remember? Yes that's right. Her legs had taken control, or so it had seemed and she had walked and walked and walked. She saw nothing, had felt separated - estranged from her body. At one point it was as if she was a voyeur, coldly observing herself, a girl, a lonely, frightened, lost girl. Then she was a spider traversing her web. Using intuition to navigate the safe, unsticky threads of her web. Would she wake up and forget the way? Find herself in the centre where she would fall victim to her own trap? Where were her legs taking her? Sometimes she could hear her footsteps echo on the pavement; sometimes she could hear nothing at all. Had it rained she had asked herself later? Had it been cold? She didn’t know. Her mind had zoned out and could barely recognise anything at all. On and on she trudged, hour after hour. She was in a vacuum divorced from reality. On and on. Hour upon hour. And then, there she was, At the end of the world. At the Sea. Its vastness woke her and with it the reality of her situation. It struck her, hard like a sledgehammer. Smash and she quailed beneath the weight of the truth. Her heart hurt, her body felt old, and useless and flaccid. She drank in the wildness of the Sea. Unlike her it seemed be alive, an emotional tempestuous animal, pulling at its invisible chains, rearing, and kicking. Higher and higher It was hard to make out any horizon. Sky and Sea met and were one. Above her, lay blue, black inky clouds so low that they seemed to push down on her head. She stifled the urge to push up against this suffocating lumpy mattress and let her hands graze her face and hair. The air was thick, wet and she could taste the salt and seaweed on her lips. Her legs, still in control, carried her forward. Without warning She felt the ground sink under her weight. Sand? A childlike reflex took over and she found herself removing a shoe and then a sock and then another shoe and then the remaining sock. She didn’t stop, she just dropped them as she walked leaving a trail of footprints and stuff. She then started removing the rest of her clothes, oblivious to what she had on. Was there a coat? A jumper? She definitely had jeans on as she remembered stepping out of them. As she neared the water’s edge, the clouds eased their grip on her, and a new wind whipped her hair. She closed her eyes, the Sea beckoned her. Again. Louder. Joy flooding her veins. It wanted her! She, it. Yes. Yes. She would give herself, body and soul, to the sea. She would gladly be a bride of Poseidon, in exchange for this release, this joy, this feeling of being wanted. Poseidon called his beast to heel and the Krakan dragged its white claws in the water. His etchings drew routes in the sand, pathways to his masters Kingdom. Come! And she came. She was now in the water. Huh! She took a sharp breath in. It was cold. Too cold. But she couldn’t stop, she wouldn’t. Besides, for her, the cold was exhilarating. She could actually feel…something. At last. Yes, those needles of ice, which pierced her skin, were a physical connection to her betrothed. She had unconsciously readied herself, naked, a virgin meeting her lover for the first time. He teased her with spray, licked her skin, her breasts, her face, sent burning holes through her exposed flesh. She was thigh-deep. Her legs screamed cold-pain. This was what it was like to lose your innocence, to become a woman, she told herself - this wonderful excruciating pain Meanwhile the Sea buffeted her legs and she struggled to remain upright nevertheless walk, and the wind, powerful now, howled at her ears. Come called the Sea. Sky and Sea were at war and she was the cause. They fought for ownership over her, each tugging, pushing, kicking, screaming. Come. Don’t come She opened her eyes and in one instant drank in her surroundings. Sky and Sea were night demons locked in a Japanese war dance. The music was percussion, intense, thunderous. It was dark, violent, magnificent. And she was beguiled. “I choose the Sea,” she said and dropped into the water like a stone, submerging her whole body in its murky depths. Icy water crashed around her, chewing at her flesh clawing her hair and in an instant, the air was sucked from her lungs. At last, freedom! And then… And then… And then realisation. Betrayal Poseidon was fighting for her to live. He had no need of another bride. He was pushing her up out of the water, back, away. Live. But she didn’t want to live, she wanted to be free. Live! She found herself carried to the water’s edge. And then she was sitting in the sand with the water around her ankles and navel, a rejection. “What’s the matter with me? Am I not good enough for you?” She cried For an instant, the Wind quietened, the Sea calmed, a gap in the clouds appeared and a large white moon turned its head to look at her. They regarded each other, Moon and girl. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks burning her skin. The Moon glowered and the girl shrank. Unable to hold her gaze, the girl looked away first, her eyes seeking refuge from the Moon And then she saw it Something in the water. A gift from Poseidon Delivered by the Moon and heralded by the Wind. Her hand closed over it and that was the end and the beginning.