You don’t need another human being to make your life complete, but let’s be honest. Having your wounds kissed by someone who doesn’t see them as disasters in your soul but cracks to put their love into is the most calming thing in this world.
“Some of the islanders believe the spirits of those who once lived in the house still remain among the ruins.” Keane moves up beside me and stands for a moment. “They’ll build new houses beside the ruined ones so as not to anger the spirits. It’s a lovely way to live, isn’t it? Letting the present peacefully coexist alongside the past.”
He steps from the doorway and heads toward the beach, where Sara lies on a towel in the sun. He sits down beside her and trickles a bit of pink sand on her bare stomach until she lifts her head to look at his grin. I turn away and move on to the kitchen house, where the bricks of the hearth are exposed, some blacked by cooking fires, others green with moss. If there are spirits here, on the grounds of a former plantation, I doubt they are any happier than when they were alive, with fortunes built on their back and at the tips of fingers bloodied from picking cotton. I am haunted here, but I’m not entirely sure I haven’t brought my own ghosts.