Questa è Enida

Port of Call.

Her battle was lost during the last year of her beautiful life. She lost it. Her memory. She used to collect everything she could collect. She used to keep everything she could keep. Just so she could hang on to everything she could hang on to. So she wouldn’t forget. So she would remember it all.

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And then she forgot it all. She lost it all. She even forgot where she was. All she could hang on to was her name and where she met the love of her life. All she remembered was where she was when she was young and when she was in love.

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She was in the Port of Dickson’s. She was in love.

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And that was the last beach I took her to, on which she walked as though she knew it was her last walk on the beach. I think she knew it. What she didn’t know was where the love of her life had been. It was all gone before she could let it go. And then she let go.

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She left.

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