I lay on the sand for long, wearing nothing but a tiny pair of boxer shorts, gazing at the falcate moon which still skulked in the vivid morning sky like a sickle. There was something poetic about the sky that day—that motherly stretch of blue which harbored the sun and the moon in her loving embrace.
I could feel the tepid rays of the late-morning sun soak deeper and deeper into my skin, setting me into a state of stunning, sensual submission. I lay unmoved watching the moon die as the sun slowly proclaimed its prowess as it emerged out of the horizon to claim the zenith.
With the heat turning hostile, I woke up rubbing the searing white sand off my back, but they lingered on my skin adamantly. A moment later I was walking along the coast, feeling the temperate touch of sea under my soles…those frequent tickle of sea grass on my ankle…creepy…I saw bubbles…must be fishes…
I turned around to find I am alone. My heart was throbbing with excitement, and I can’t help but walk—deeper and deeper towards the sea.
Far away there was a sapphire patch of corals—the aura sat on the calm sea like a meditating yogi. I walked towards it, knee deep in the turquoise water, helplessly, as if I was not in my command anymore. I had let my soul guide my steps.
A pleasurable bath in the balmy ocean soon ended, for I saw something unfriendly swimming in the water—a puffer fish! I saw it inflate itself into a big black balloon—a spiny balloon if you will, and it seem to advance towards me. I stumbled towards the shore, with heart in my mouth, hoping I was not being followed by a swarm of puffer fish, which I might have offended with my invasive ambitions.
It was evening and I saw the moon again, shaped like a smile. Down went the sun, and came the darkness again. I heard laughter. I smelt brandy. The feast had just begun.