Seaside.

A Story by Oliver Bergh

The moon, like a disc, held gaze over the glassy surface of earth. The Oregon coast, holding a lure over the west. It was there the scene was set.

Seaside.

Oliver Bergh

Salty air lightly kissed my face. The only kiss I have felt in ages that reminded me of her. Waves softly collided with the cliff, the light of the lighthouse behind me started to glow, getting brighter as the sky became darker. Orange rays slowly sank away as the sun crawled under the ocean like a child covering up for bed.

The sunset never intrigued me. Orange and gold and all the warmest colors of the rainbow in one glorious spot, sure, I can see what it is considered beautiful, but the moon is what captures my attention.

Glacier's Point is the oldest landmark on the beach, the oddest as well. Most of the seaside is grassy hills – hills that children roll down as they giggle with friends – while Glacier's Point is a jetting cliff that goes out over the glorious Pacific.

Quickly the sun disappeared to warm Japan while the moon began its ascent. The light from the tower above jetted across the ocean, warning boats, wherever they may be, that they have reached land once again. The white disc of the moon, so full and happy, almost as if it were laughing. I got to my feet and walked up to the peak of Glacier's Point. I felt so close to the moon, almost as if I could just grab it and let it take me away.

I closed my eyes and reached up, pretending to grasp the glowing circle. The ocean breeze hugging me as I breathed it in. My mind took me to wondrous places: Italy, Korea, Africa. I saw the faces of the world, smiling and bright.

“You know she loves you, right?”

The visions disappeared in spite of my grasp on it and a jolt of lightning woke me from perfection.

I swivled around, and there in front of me was a beautiful blond haired girl, bundled up warm with scarves and hats and jackets. Looking at her made me realize that a tee-shirt wasn't good enough for the Oregon beach at night.

Her golden hair blew into her face, but her gray eyes pierced through. She didn't blink. “You know that, right?” she said.

“I know.”

“Then why don't you go to her?”
I turned away from her and looked back at the moon. It's cold whiteness now chilling me to the bone. Giving it a silent prayer to take me away, I looked back. “Because.”

“Because why?” she said.

“Because love has a way of working everything out.”

“You know, you can't just rely on love to fix everything.”

I smiled at her. Her gray eyes lessened their grip on me. They glossed over, becoming glassy spheres. I saw the moon in them. Silence blanketed over us, the wind died down. She moved the hair out of her face, and I swear that for a quick moment, she smiled at me.