A tsunami of memories overwhelms her.
Long summer twilights, chilled wine hauled from the murky depths beside the boat, steel halyards tinkling against the mast, and strakes rubbing irritably against foreign quays.
His boat, spotted from the harbour wall, is well past its best; they both are now.
There’s movement below decks. She should climb on board, say hello… just passing through. They always said they’d find each other again… soul mates, kindred spirits.
Their journey, they’d said, would bind them together irrevocably. Nothing would change.
But the past is a foreign country.
And they do things differently there.
She walks by.
This photo had me reminiscing about more carefree times. Freedom of movement is something you tend not to notice… until it’s gone. Friday Fictioneers is about as far from home as most of us are getting these days, thanks to Rochelle. Stay home, stay safe and well.
I love the absence of sentimentality here. It’s so true. I’m reminded of the old Greek adage that you can never step in the same river twice (though we keep trying)
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Don’t we just. Thanks for reading, Neil.
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I love that: the past is another country and they do things differently there. For all the what is, it’s so true. Time and change make their own divisions. Beautiful!
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L P Hartley – The Go Between. I can’t take any credit for it, other than being able to recognise a good line when I read one. 🙂 Thanks for reading, Sascha.
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Strong emotion here. How time changes everything.
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Sometimes without you ever realising. Thanks for reading, Tanille.
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Thank heavens we have the freedom of memories in these strange times. Yes returning to old haunts is usually challenging
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Yes, it’s not all rainbows and roses sometimes. Thanks for reading.
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Wonderful imagery. Evocative and beautifully written, Sandra.
Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
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Many thanks, Susan.
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I couldn’t have said it better.
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Dear Sandra,
The past is a foreign country. So much pathos and metaphor. Well done.
Shalom and continued health,
Rochelle
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Thanks, Rochelle. And the same to you.
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I just read a book with a similar name. ‘My Past is a Foreign Country’ by Zeba Talkhani!
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Past is a different country and we want to be citizens there.
But, need to continue here.
Stay home. Stay safe.
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Thanks for reading, Anita.
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An autobiography from your days days on the water Sandra? Looking forward to the day we are allowed to retrace some of our favourite steps.
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Dredging through the past, Iain. 🙂 Thanks for reading.
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Lovely and sad. I enjoyed how you paint the past in splashes. I especially like the nautical jargon. Well done.
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Thanks, Josh. Glad you liked it.
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That opening description really smacks of experience there, Sandra. A lady who knows from whence she speaks :).
I love that hint of temptation, that her past is just a few steps away, and yet she knows there’s no going back. And she’s wise I think – we can’t undo the intervening years and they’ve both changed in that time. The past is a different country and they are different people. Wonderful stuff
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When I was writing this, I was thinking of the times I’ve seen someone from long, long ago and I’ve ended up dodging the reunion. I still don’t know why. Do I not want to see them? Or do I not want them to see me? Thanks for reading.
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I seem to have lost my original reply in the posting. I was musing on the decisions you have to make when you suddenly come across someone from the dim and distant past. And why you make them. Thanks for reading, Lynn.
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My instinct is often to run in the opposite direction! If we’d meant to stay in touch, we would have done 😄
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I loved ‘Long summer twilights’ and everything before and after.
And I learned a new word – strakes – which shows I’m no sailor.
Other than that this is just your usual devastating insight into humanity.
Do you really see into our souls?
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Sometimes, sadly, I see into more than I’d like to. People-watchers do. Thanks for reading and commenting, CE.
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It might make life uncomfortable for you sometimes, Sandra, but it is so rewarding for the rest of us.
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Sadly beautiful, Sandra. Loved it.
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Many thanks, Linda. Stay well.
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You brought me back to the days on father’s boat. Definitely feels like a foreign country. Beautifully written, Sandra.
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Thanks for reading, Dale. Keep on cooking!
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Will do! I’m happiest in the kitchen.
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The past is a foreign country.And they do things differently there…very famous lines. Loved your ‘tempting story;.
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Many thanks, Neel.
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Excellent story! I agree with Neel, “The past is a foreign country. And they do things differently there.” is a keeper.
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p.s. I didn’t realize that was a quote by L.P. Hartley!
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From The Go-Between. I believe I may have seen the film quite some years ago.
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I love the way you’ve constructed this, taking us to a high point with “Their journey, they’d said, would bind them together irrevocably. Nothing would change.” and then cleverly darken the mood, fading into solitude. Very accomplished writing, Sandra.
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Many thanks Penny. Hope you are coping and staying safe.
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Promises scarcely stand up to time. Sometimes, the past is better left in the past. Sometimes, the best is yet to come if I may quote Mr. Sinatra. Regardless of the outcome, your tale was beautifully crafted.
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Many thanks! 🙂
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A poignant reminder that we can never go back to those better days. It’s probably best she walked by and kept her memories as they are. Excellent piece!
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Yes, that would be my preference. Thanks for reading, Brenda.
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Well done! Sometimes, as times change, so do perceptions and promises and their meaning. Nicely penned!
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Many thanks!
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🙂
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Sometimes the ship really has sailed.
Greetings from home, where I’m grateful to find shelter.
I’ve missed you all.
Tracey
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It’s a lovely feeling isn’t it, returning home at a time like this. And welcome back.
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You too. It looked like you had a little adventure getting home to shelter also. We don’t have adequate healthcare in MX, resources are limited and now they are limiting travel as well. We left with the wolf at the door.
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A novel in a 100 words. Beautifully done, Sandra.
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Many thanks, Doug.
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Leave the past in its box, with the fine memories that reside there. Good stuff
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I think so too. Thanks for reading.
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ennui is a virus that kills any relationlship. social distancing can help.. 🙂
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Thanks for reading.
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Nice story, but too bad. Now she’ll never know.
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Maybe that’s better. Or maybe not.
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The sadness of opportunities missed! You summed up a relationship in a few words, but who has the courage to jump into another person’s life mid-stream? Yet i cannot help but feel it was a mistake.
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Goodness! This is just lovely. I love going down to the harbor in Bellingham Bay and listen to the songs created by the halyards and masts.
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I love the ides that they “do things differently” in the past. Very true.
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I liked how she debated going in. I wish she had. Wonderfully written Sandra!
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Well done, it brought back many memories — that I want to stay memories. Sometimes dredging up the past doesn’t mean we can re-live it. And refusing it can take courage.
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Forgot to mention how apt the title is!
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I love the way you create the mood of the boat in the harbor,and the tantalizing choices.I find it somehow haunting.
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The past is a foreign country indeed. Beautifully descriptive writing.
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