Boot-soles Over Infinity by Emily Mody

June Prompt: the longest day

​Astrid landed on Isle Cassiopeia a month after her grandfather passed away. It was her mother’s idea. “You should go,” she said and passed her an envelope. “He left this letter for you. Take it with you and say a proper goodbye.”

Every year the family would travel to the island for summer solstice. Her grandfather would always lead the toast on the longest day of the year. He would stand by the bonfire on the beach holding up his drink, his voice echoing across the water, “Let’s make the longest day feel like the shortest.”

Everyone would cheer. Her grandfather had a way of

making every grandchild feel special but Astrid was his favourite. She would often catch his expression across the massive dinner table, a large goofy grin looking back at her as if there was a secret joke between the two of them.

This year was different. When she arrived at the island and opened the door to the beach cabin there was a fine layer of dust clinging to every surface. The entryway that was normally too crowded with other bags to hold her own sat empty. It was early and the golden rays of dawn trumpeted over the horizon. She picked up a pair of spare hiking boots that were sitting in the hall closet, two sizes too big for her, and headed for the beach.

As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice the tabebuia. Her grandfather cared for it diligently. They had planted it together under a larger spreading tree. The larger tree protected the full golden blooms from the intense sunlight but Astrid could see that the larger tree had recently been felled in a storm. The tabebuia was now mostly bare, small and struggling but there were still a few beautiful blooms that poked out from the branches.

Astrid took a seat there and opened the letter her grandfather had written for her. When she lifted the papers free, sand and seashells poured out. It read:

‘I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love.
If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles.’

‘The beach cabin is yours. Let it be a warm reminder to enjoy
the dazzle of the light and every moment of your life.’

Astrid looked down at her boots. She understood. He was everywhere here, the sand, the trees, the air, the water. Astrid could almost hear his voice quoting Walt Whitman, broad arms opening in an all-encompassing gesture right before he grabbed her in a big hug.

​She spent the remainder of the afternoon cleaning up the felled tree. She would plant a new one. Just as the sunlight began to drift behind the horizon Astrid looked out over the water. A warm wind blew in, causing the trees to sway in the breeze. The dappled light fell across her face and warmed her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. 

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Emily Mody graduated with a Bachelor of Arts Honours from the University of Calgary in 2013. She was a founding member of the campus Film Society as well as co-editor of the Undergraduate Academic Film Journal, Crash/Cut. Emily’s honours thesis, Beautifully Mundane: A Systematic Study of Subjective Experience was published in 2013. She is a writer and reviewer, with over forty publications at Calgarymovies.com. She now serves as Vice President on the board of directors for the Calgary Cinematheque Society. Emily’s flash fiction piece entitled, Cailleach Calling Over Lake Lament will be published in the inaugural issue of War of the Words.