Register
A password will be e-mailed to you.

I look at her face as we sit on the boardwalk’s concrete lining. I don’t remember her being any more beautiful or, in that case, any less. Those big brown eyes were hiding behind her thick brown hair catching my glimpse every once in a while. That blue dress with white polka dots fit her just so perfectly like it had only been made for her. Those small hands rested on my thigh and her head on my shoulder. There are many like us here, sitting right next to us, each with a different story. Each with different past, and different opinions about the future. I don’t know what my future is, nobody does, and I don’t like to dwell in past either. Nobody does, probably. But, this, right now; is happening. I’m breathing, I’m living, and I’ve fallen in love. I can’t be much happier.

Jolly Roger lights are making our shadows appear and disappear on the sand and I look at them as they do. Those bright LED’s from the Ferris wheel are making our hue turn seven colors. They light up and they stop, then they light up again. Just like I look at her, stop, and look at her again. They light up, every time in different orders and different colors. If it were any other days I would just look at it for a while, and see those beautiful patterns. I would reach the 25th street, away from all the hustling, sit on the cold sand for a while, then look at it. But I can’t today, I can’t take my eyes off of her. Maybe for another two weeks, I wouldn’t be able to. And I wouldn’t try either. Fifteen days is all that I have and I don’t want to miss a thing.

There’s been a lot of fireworks in the last couple of weeks. Luckily, I haven’t missed any but one. The first firework I saw was with her while sitting on the lifesaver’s bench. Back then things were complicated, but now it’s more than complicated. Now, it’s just an apocalypse all over. But, I know I can do better, I can make things better. I always have.

I have always been fond of the ocean. In spite of the fact that I’m afraid of depth, and I can’t swim either, I have always stepped on the waves till my feet vanished below the sand. I have been to the loneliest part of the Ocean City beach and sat on a bench, listening to the waves and watching the moon as it rises from the horizon. I have closed my eyes and felt the breeze passing through my hair, breathing in the sand. I have slept on this beach for a couple of days, on the lifesaver’s bench. Not because I didn’t have a place to live, and neither did I do it on purpose, I just fell asleep to the sounds of the waves. I loved each moment and I hated it equal. I was living, but there were things that were killing me deep inside. And neither this ocean breeze or the waves, none of them could wash them away.

A tram passes by us on the boardwalk. She had always wanted to take a ride. It wasn’t much, to be honest, but I, too, wanted to get the experience. We take two tickets and get to our seats. I look around. I look at the wooden platform where everyone is walking. And in the middle of the unknown faces were we two. The tram was moving at its own pace, and I was just happy that I didn’t have to walk my way all the way from Jolly Rogers to the fifteenth street. But I just looked into her eyes, and thought why this moment was so imperfectly perfect? Why this day was as it is? Why was I not anywhere but here? Why was I sitting beside her and not on the thirteenth street?

“What if I write a book about this summer and end it right here? Right here, this place, this time, and this moment. What if I stop time right here? What if we never forget this?”, I broke the long silence.

She just smiled.

 

 

Leave a Reply

Users who submit spammy promotional articles will be removed by us or banned untimely if they do so. We promote literature, stories, and touching aspects of society, and we connect with writers all over the world. Thank you, Rising Junkiri

X