At the age of thirteen, the girl, who could not run faster than her schoolmates, walked to the seashore – to collect white shells from Setonai Sea, the west of Japan. Into the transparent glass bottle, she put the shell – one for each bad day. Instead of wasting nights with tears, before cutting her wrist, she went to the seashore and gathered the shells. At the age of seventeen, when the glass bottle became full, she took the plane – to cross over Moscow, fly over Copenhagen and Amsterdam. Near Notre Dame in Paris, the glass bottle in her arm, she stood next to the photographer, whose mind and camera captured the pink sunset. With no glance at him, she murmured, “What’s in my arm is the amount of my sadness”. His eyes – as blue as the Sea – caught her in his gaze and he gently held her fragile body in his arms. He opened the glass bottle and scattered the shells – into the deep old Seine. Then, he took her hand and they disappeared – somewhere between Brussels and London.

© 2015 Kiara Belle * To subscribe on your Kindle, please click HERE!!!


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