By Adina Pelle
Shivering he was mumbling some poem at the end of the breakwater. Because of the mist, visibility from the rock he sat on fainted by the minute with the dark approaching. A barrel painted bright orange floating not far from the end of the wall of stones where he smoked his cheap cigarette, seemed to catch his focus, bouncing up and down with the tinny waves.
The sun was far gone by now and, light was losing its battle… Isabelle became just a faint memory also… earlier in the day they were frolicking on the beach. He still had sand in his ass.
Wonder if she has also sand in her ass? Stupid. He puffed another drag from his joint.
The wind started to give him a light headache. He was at the very end, well into the sea and lowered his head covering his ears with his knees.
“What’s your name?” The voice was clear and cutting through the lapping sound the water made against the rocks. It sounded like the clinking of glasses amidst a party. There was nobody behind and ahead, only sea.
“Here silly, I am down here.”
By the rock, bobbing up and down in the water just like the barrel he stared earlier, was the upper half of a girl with a grin stretching from one ear to the other.
“I wish you would give me a drag from your fag, I am bored out of my mind.”
“How come you are British? Brits call cigarettes fags.”
“What, haven’t you heard of a British mermaid?” She giggled obviously delighted by the confusion and bewilderment created in the man’s thoughts.
“Here, “he said extending his arm with his cigarette down towards her “You can have it all, there’s about half of it left. “
“That’s fancy of you, I was afraid I scared you.”
“Does everybody get scared?”
“There was one who tied himself to his boat just so he didn’t go crazy.”
She seemed puzzled.
“Yeah, Ulysses, how do you know his name? Wonder what happened to the lad?”
“Eventually he turned out OK,” he answered smiling.
She puffed the cigarette with a delight he could only hear and once in a while, as she dragged from it, the light at the end of the cigarette radiated on her face ever so briefly.
“So you have a silver tail?”
“Of course, any self respecting mermaid has one. We are born with a green tail, but when we turn 14 it turns silver. There’s a big party going with that and we end up playing tricks on unsuspecting sailors out at sea the next day. “
“That’s not nice of you. “
“I know” she giggled amused.
“Well” she resumed, “Thanks for the fag. Got to go now!”
“Bye” he just rolled the word out of his mouth as she disappeared under water.
He remained sited. Closed his eyes leaning his back against a rock and let go of his thoughts …
Demand (lol) to know if this is symbolic of something.
First, your dialogue sets a good mood. I see so much background as they speak.
However, is this representative of a meeting. The sand in the…you know what…is great detail. Everyone can relate…I have some story about that myself lol.
A very intelligent piece…really makes the reader(me included) want to ask questions about it.
Talent on paper—that is you
PS: going to buy your book after breakfast—byebye
This is just a litle fantasy. A guy, after spending the day at the beach with his lover, smokes himself into a stupor at night, alOne, when anything. is possible
Shows you how “cool” I am.
With an explanation it seems to have more depth. I, as usual with your work, se both characters clearly. Now, the guys appearance is changed—added to. Great!
I can’t wait to read your stories in Ghost Words. B & N is holding it for me. Going right now!