This week's prompt: bit -dot- ly / 17f5VTD
Word count 176
Tonight my parents have sold me, signed their name on a contract promising my hand to their desire.
There are times I wonder which age I'm living in. The calendars say 2013, yet my parents act like it's still 1513. All I'm good for is marrying off, producing heirs. My desires are swept to sea.
I walk along the shore tonight, like all nights—the only time of day when I control all aspects of my life. Most evenings you're there. Some days you wave, others you shout over the roar of the sea.
It was the scruff on your cheeks that first intrigued me. The only others I've seen with such are the old men who waste away their last days fishing, telling stories of their glory days. Yet, you smile more than they do. The light in their eyes have dimmed, yet your eyes are as bright as the light behind you.
They aren't going to have the final say.
I run straight toward you, right through the waves. Your lighthouse guiding my desires.