CITY ISLAND LINES
The little boy knocked timidly for a third time. Just as he turned to leave, the creaky door cracked open to reveal a wizened smile.
‘Hullo, young man. What can I do for you today?’ Caught off guard, the boy stammered his rehearsed response, ‘My mother baked some bread and asked me to bring you some.’ He extended his left hand, which cradled a warm loaf swaddled in paper. ‘Why that is kind!’ the old man exclaimed. ‘Wont you come in and have some with me?’ “Oh no!’ said the boy. ‘It’s all for you! I wouldn’t want to take any of your bread, because my mother says you’re poor.’ Instantly regretting his insensitivity, he blushed crimson. ‘Poor?’ said the man, genuinely astounded. ‘Whatever made her think that? I have more treasure than anyone I know!’ It was the boy’s turn to be astounded. ’You do?’ he asked with wonder. ‘Yes, I do. I’ll show you if you’d like.’ The boy’s curiosity elbowed aside his timidity, and he nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes please!’ ‘Come in then,’ smiled the old man. ‘Just follow me,’ he said, as he wove a path between piles of newspapers and cardboard boxes. ‘I keep my treasure hidden in the back,’ he winked, as the boy stepped cautiously behind him. ‘Here we go,’ the man grinned triumphantly. They had reached the back of his small dwelling, which was really no more than a garden shed. He stood in front of a wooden cupboard that was brightly painted and, unlike anything else in the house, clean and cared for. It had two doors each with a shiny brass handle. Ceremoniously, the old man grasped each of these and swung the doors open to reveal the cupboard’s contents. Braced for the blinding shine of gold or the stunning sparkle of gems, the boy was perplexed to see only row upon row of books. They came in every size and colour, each one with its spine neatly leaning against its neighbour. Confused, the boy stared up at the old man. ‘Here I have knowledge, travel, conversation, imagination. You see, I have all the wealth in the world. What more could I ask for?’ 30 July 2019
1 Comment
As he walked across the room, her heart sprang toward him like a jack-in-the-box. Though they had known each other for a year now, she still felt a giddy rush of joy when she saw him. They had met using a dating App, something she’d had lurking concerns about. Incredibly, he was her first ‘match’, and she’d never needed another. Their connection was immediate and magnetic.
Since then, they’d shared a spectrum of adventures that cemented their bond. He was a scuba instructor and had gently coaxed her past her paralysing panic and opened the wild windows of the watery world to her. She had learned to embrace the soundlessness and submerge herself in the kaleidoscope of corals and fish. She herself was an avid cook, and she had patiently taken his hands to ‘show’ them how to knead bread. Together they had concocted recipes and menus then brought them to life. It certainly seemed like their relationship had all the ingredients for an exceptional dish. So here they were, in their favourite restaurant, celebrating the one year ‘anniversary’ of their first date, and she was looking forward to some delicious nostalgia seasoned with engaging conversation. But she was slightly startled to find that he had ordered oysters to start the evening off. In spite of the amorous connotations, she did not like oysters, and he knew that. To her, they had the texture of rubber cement and tasted like rotting seaweed. What else would you expect from a sorry soggy creature that slurped on sewage all day? She looked at him quizzically. It was unlike him to forget a detail like this. ‘Well, happy anniversary—thank you for an amazing year—the best ever! Let’s dig in.’ He purposefully selected a lidded oyster and placed it on her plate. She eyed him and then the ugly oyster. ‘Well, it’s not like they’re going to get cold, but you might as well start, ‘ he affectionately encouraged her. Gingerly trying to avoid the jagged edges, she lifted off the top shell and braced herself for the inevitable sight of something that belonged in a spittoon. But there was no sign of the hideous innards. Instead, she was greeted by what looked like a tiny full moon twinkling within the luminous shell. A perfect pearl perched on a platinum band was all that the oyster held. She lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘You are greater than any treasure I could ever find in the sea. Will you marry me?’ Once again, her heart leapt like a joyous jack-in-the-box. 23 July 2019 She ran her fingertips over the sensitive skin, tracing the tattoo’s outline in her mind’s eye. She could remember the excitement when she described her idea to the tattoo artist. And she remembered his warning that it was a sensitive area and would likely be quite painful. It was. She could still recall the sharp stings singeing her skin, while she bit her lip to stop from screaming. But it felt like a physical manifestation of true commitment. They had chosen the word together, and feeling it etched into such an intimate place made her feel anchored, tethered to another.
Unlike that relationship, the tattoo endured. She had long since allowed hair to grow over it, keeping it concealed. Private. Even she needed a handheld mirror to see it, although she had not looked at it in a long time. But now, now that she felt awakened again, she wanted to see it. More importantly, she felt ready to share it. In fact, she longed to feel those slender fingers finding this singular secret; to watch those deep dark eyes, which had held her from the very first moment, as they found her tiny treasure for the first time. Giddy with anticipation, she heard the knock. Opening her front door, she felt herself melting. Wordlessly, she took the elegant hands and drew them to her, guiding them gently. Tingling with desire she looked into those bottomless eyes and parted her hair to reveal the hidden jewel. She shivered with pleasure as she felt the inquisitive caress on the nape of her neck. |
Proudly powered by Weebly