Ilana Dent’s Medicine Box – Part 4

Beautiful but Unlikely

caught on the eddies

I left her house, but instead of going home turned left and walked down to the waterline. I stood looking out over the Sound, letting the sand slip away under my feet. The last time, the last tears. Take Ilana’s pills; take them with the whiskey Ross’ uncle gave us last Christmas—make it easy. Lie down and go to sleep. Sleeping beauty. It was exhilarating to be making this final decision, releasing Ross from the damage I was doing . . . it was always you, always you. My love for him was all-encompassing, spreading out behind the rumbling surf, filling up the sky. Too agitated for even the tide to hold me, I turned and headed home along the road paralleling the beach.

As I glided home through the dark streets, Ilana’s bottle burning in my hand, I felt, ironically, more alive than I had in months. I felt…

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