(Finished) Long Walks on the Beach -- (Author) dogboy

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Author: dogboy
Timestamp: Feb 12, 2015 at 10:26 PM
Content: I wrote part of this story several years ago as a silly response to an Introduction thread from a new member. It ended differently, the protagonist being bit by a vampire. This Saturday is Valentine's Day, and I'm part of the entertainment to our church Valentine's Day dinner. I'm having a friend read this short story as I play Chopin's, Prelude in D flat, "the raindrop prelude" as it's commonly known.

There are no diapers or those of us who want to be babies in this story. It's simply about love and a romance that could never be. I hope you enjoy it. Oddly, it brought tears to me as I wrote it. It's short. Yes, you can get through this...haha.

Long Walks on the Beach
I used to enjoy long walks on the beach, comforted by the solace of my thoughts. I saw her sitting alone on a bench, the wood weathered from both the salt air, and the many people who would rest from their tireless sojourn along the boardwalk. The heat was almost overwhelming even though it was late, the sun beginning to set. My feet were hot and tired, and I was ready to leave, when I saw her, those penetrating eyes, looking, no, staring through me. Gracefully she stood up and moved toward me, jumping off the well worn boards as she carelessly drifted across the sand, she moving closer and closer, almost effortlessly. I stood motionless, caught in the spell of her unimaginable beauty.

Finally she was upon me, close; so close. She whispered into my ear, "It's going to rain," and suddenly, inexplicably, small drops begin to hit me, the drops becoming larger, more intense, pelting the both of us. It didn’t seem to bother her at all. She said, "Let’s take cover under the pier."

I ran with her, her beautiful body racing like the wind, leaving me in her trail of kicked up sand, and some strange, almost foreign fragrance. Was it flowers?

She waited for me to catch up, she now under the pier, and as I approached her, she reached out to my hand, took it, and pulled me close to her, up against her. My heart began to beat, hard and irregularly, faster and faster. I never imagined when I had decided to go to the beach today, that it would end this way, but there was something else I never imagined, never could have imagined, and that reality became all too apparent and much too late, as she closed her eyes and kissed me.

I felt light headed: dizzy. We were but a mist, flying to distant lands. Florence, Venice, Paris; we lived an eternity there, the two of us. I felt as if I was falling. Somewhere, the ocean roar was in my head, the sand, cold and wet beneath me. Again, I was aware of flowers. No, not flowers, but mimosa. I was home walking down my street, a tree lined lane that lead to the beach. It was hot and humid, and the smell from the mimosa trees lay heavy in the air. My heart was excited. I was walking to see her, this mysterious girl along with the heavy atmosphere that made my head light in anticipation, and then; I opened my eyes. She was gone.

I ran up and down the beach, hysterically, asking anyone I’d meet if they had seen a girl, a most beautiful girl. You would remember her if you did, I said, but they mostly ignored me, walking quickly away, as if I was a threat, or worse. I felt this overwhelming loss, and I couldn’t understand why. Eventually I gave up and went home to my apartment a few blocks away, and I was startled as I returned to my reality. Here there were no mimosas, no tree lined lane, dotted with the occasional house. Was it all a dream?

Weeks later I bought a slice of pizza from a boardwalk stand, an older Italian woman serving me, and without any thought I asked her, almost as if I was supposed to ask, “Was there ever a girl, someone different, oh how do I explain.” But before I could finish she said, “Oh. You’ve seen her, have you?”

I was taken aback. I paused, just for a moment to clear my head, but before I could say yes, she continued.

“You stay away from her. She’s singled you out.”

I didn’t understand, so I asked, “What do you mean,” and then, more emphatically I asked, “Who is she?”

She sighed and then she told me. They had been star crossed lovers, she and her young soldier boy. They were seen often, walking on the beach, and as part of their ritual, they would kiss under the pier when the sun was setting. This continued day after day, and others, those who may have had a romantic heart, looked for them, and perhaps, relived through them, the remembrance of their own young romances.

One day the couple stopped coming and we all wondered, what happened. His obituary appeared in the evening paper, killed in the hot Arabian dessert, a casualty of war. She was seen only once, standing under the pier as the sun was setting and the tide coming in. Someone thought she was walking out to the water, the waves washing over her. She was never seen again.

I found her address from the town hall records, and drove the short distance to where she had lived. I walked past her house, paused for a moment and stared at the small unoccupied Cape Cod. For some unexplained reason, I continued walking, the lonely road leading down towards the water. Again I felt light headed, as if I was in love, and my senses were consumed with the fragrance from the trees which lined both sides of the road. The mimosas were beautiful, adorned in their pink blossoms.

I no longer walk along the beach, accept when it is raining. I have the beach to myself in the rain, and I always find myself under the pier, the smell of mimosa still lingering.

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Author: dogboy
Timestamp: Feb 17, 2015 at 5:39 AM
Content:

anton said:

This is a really beautiful story. I'm surprised no one has commented yet. Well done!

[End of quote]

Hey thanks. I appreciate your kind words. I sent a copy of it to my daughter who is a professor at Virginia Tech, and she enjoyed it. Of course, she might be slightly biased.