by Jo Ann Atcheson Gray (Author)

Gazing out across these dreary, gray waters as

I feel the bitter aggressive wind in my pale white

face. I can't help but wonder was it all worth it.

Watching the waves crash brutally below me as

I stand alone on the wet, damp rocks above.

I try to imagine my life as if it were somehow different.

Could I have made better choices, a different path?

Seems so vague now. Seems like decades, this

solitude. So many memories flooding my immortal

mind... So much time has passed since that dreadful night

in New Orleans. Truth does hurt sometimes. No regrets,

really, for what I did, if you could call it regret, only for

what I lost. Love was real, seemingly, or what I thought

to be love... This is my tragedy...