Within fifteen minutes, he arrived at Lulworth Cove, parked his car and strolled up onto the cliff top, gazing down to the water’s edge. He sat on a flat lump of rock in the freezing cold, as the wind blew through all crevices of his clothes numbing his flesh, his hair flickering around his head, tic-tacking onto his skull as his ears fast becoming red in colour and the wind howled past him, exploring every single niche about his person with the natural intent of persistence.
Vincent continued to gaze down the cliff’s edge where the sea swirled and bashed against the rock face, spraying high into the air, whooshing, as the sea worked in its indefatigable nature of imminent erosion. He felt a similarity to the rock face, as Sarah was the sea, mentally swirling her careless words around him, bashing into his brain, feeling her endless mind games eroding his inner strength of sanity. He continuously gazed down to his brotherhood of rock face, empathising for its consistent receipt of head fuck and toyed with the idea of literally joining it, as he could have easily allowed himself to slip over the cliff’s edge, plummeting a hundred and twenty feet to his death, becoming a tangled victim of wash as the sea’s uncompromising strength would take his forgotten corpse deep within its heart of merciless control… He thought at least, if he were dead, he would know the truth. But he couldn’t subject himself to death, as the time wasn’t right, his spirit was still on a mission to teach Sarah a huge lesson about people’s feelings in our unsacred world of competitive mind games. Although his frustration was immensely painful, he couldn’t give up as he was the chosen one, through cruel to be kind, to guide Sarah onto the path which had been staring her in the face for numerous years. He again reminded himself of where his trust lay as he knew he had the strength to fight through the mental battlefields of Sarah’s remnant scatterings of hurt, otherwise he wouldn’t have been chosen to act out her divine retribution.
Suddenly feeling more positive Vincent stood up and walked westward along the cliff top in the direction of the stunning Durdle Door, about 1½ miles from Lulworth Cove. He walked along the coastal path up and down in style of the cliff top’s sculpture, glancing out to sea feeling completely at ease with himself, hearing and seeing the wildlife all around him nesting their homes in the cliff’s face protecting their young, until he eventually arrived at Durdle Door. He stepped down the everlasting man made steps to the water’s edge and sat by the sea in front of the door’s opening of Durdle Door in peace and tranquillity. He had no care for any conventional regime, no care for his work position, as his work colleagues were probably already wondering when he was to return, but he had no care to return, for his real responsibilities lay deep within his spiritual energy provided by the greatest Motherhood of power… our universe. He couldn’t care for society’s rules and regulations; they didn’t conform to his needs. He had no desire to work at a desk from nine till five, five days a week in the same building and same people, to watch television through the evening and wash his car at the weekend.
His thoughts were becoming deeper when the skies opened and the rain started to fall, so he found shelter in one of the small caverns in the side of the cliff face where he sat on his bottom cross legged gazing out of his cave, watching the sea wash onto the beach disturbing all the little indentations created by the heavy rain, when far out to sea a stunning fork of lightning caught Vincent’s eye as he started to count… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… and then the echoing crack of thunder saturated the beach with its sound of natural energy, feeding Vincent’s immortal spirit with the sense of living. He then lay back onto the cave’s wall feeling tranquil and eventually dozed off into a tiresome nap.
He abruptly woke to the sound of