Lady of the Mist

The broken down gatehouse standing outside our village, shrouded in mist. Its history long forgotten became a place for Tommy, my brother and I to play, let loose our imagination. I became King of the Round Table in that house.

As an adult, I am still drawn there, those old walls hold echoes of my youth. My memory of Tommy, I feel it more in this place than my mind can grasp.

It is 6 am, the mist is still thick, the gatehouse barely visible. The mist has a strange effect on the eyes, almost alive, forever moving.

I stood still about a yard from the walls. I had noticed a movement that didn’t belong to the mist. A woman, almost transparent like a glass butterfly, her long hair swinging to some unheard music. Her dress reached her bare feet, she held her arms high above her head and my heart beat in tune with her dance. A strong rhythm that felt familiar.

If I moved closer, would the veil between us allow her to see me?

My feet moved of their own accord, I was drawn towards her. This wonderful spectre  invited me to dance with her. What brings her here?

Is she waiting to meet someone, a lover who has forgotten that she waits?

How long has she been waiting, my lady of the mist?

The mist was fading and soon she would be gone. Foolishly, I tried to touch her, to hold on to her. The feeling that shot through my arms held a memory that struck my heart. It was me she waited for!

Like the morning mist, she was gone. I stood there barely breathing. We had been lovers in a time long past. Will my lady of the mist be here tomorrow?

Please let it be so, for I will be waiting. I know there are times when the veil is thin. I will wait for such a time when maybe she will see me. Know me through the body I wear now. I wanted to tell her that I would find her again, that we would live, love through a new lifetime.

I walked home alone, knowing it was my turn to wait…

Another lovely photo prompt for #Writephoto from Sue Vincent…