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Big like the ocean

The tide of the full moon is treacherous and unpredictable.  As a rule, the fishermen did not take their catamarans out to sea for the entire day and night that the bloated yellow orb ruled the skies, and work at the village ground to a virtual standstill.  Those who could afford it would get drunk and stay that way, womenfolk included.  Those whose catches had been too paltry for such a luxury were at liberty to do anything that took their fancy to get them through the period that the moon was at its fullest….

No, they wouldn’t understand, and she saw no reason to explain herself.  Or the purpose of her silent vigil.
Clarissa glanced briefly at the pregnant, yellow disc hanging low over the gently undulating horizon this night.  It had been a year now…exactly a year since the ocean had claimed Domingo.  It had given no explanation, either, no matter how many times she had breathed the question “Why?” to its impassive face.  But she knew that nothing happened without a purpose on God’s earth, and that there was a purpose to her abrupt desolation.  The Good Book said clearly that all would be revealed, and that nothing would be left hidden.  It had been on this very night twelve moons ago that she had been told that she would be reunited with Domingo.  And didn’t it also admonish her to keep a diligent watch, for she knew not when the hour would come?