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  And now we continue with our next installment of Formerly Fun's BlogOpera.
When we last left off, the barista had made beach plans with our heroine. While she scurried through her routine to get ready in two short hours, she worried herself to death about their future. Then 10:30 came and went ... and she worried some more ... Then, at 10:45, there was a knock at the door ... - F. Lawrence Caslin
BlogOpera (pt 9) "Hello, anyone home?" he called out from outside. I silently scolded myself for having wasted so much time worrying unnecessarily.
"Come on in," I said as I went to get my things from the bedroom.
I came into the living room and saw him. He looked good, clean and refreshed, brighter than the night before after having finished his shift at the café. His wheat-colored hair was still a little wet and he had on board shorts and a t-shirt.
"Hi," he said, and he kissed me before looking me over appreciatively. "You look nice, is your suit under there?"
"Yes."
"Well, let's go then."
The beach was unspoiled and as beautiful as Dylan said it would be. We spent the day lolling about on my beach blanket built for two. There were so few people there that we all spread out down the coast, making it feel as if we had the whole ocean to ourselves. Thoughtfully, he had packed a cooler filled with all manner of goodies for a beach picnic, which scored big points with me.
I lay on the blanket letting my skin absorb the warmth of the sun, drinking an ice cold diet coke, listening to music he had brought, sharing the one set of earphones between us. We nibbled on lunch feeding each other bits of fruit, cheese and roasted vegetables he had chosen for us.
I was thoroughly enjoying a day planned by someone else, each treat seeming to magically appear since I didn't have to prepare it. After lunch we lay down, tired from the combination of lack of sleep and elysian effect of the warm sun and salt water.
While he dozed, I walked down the shoreline collecting bits of sea glass I have always had a fondness for, the washed out greens and blues the perfect reminder of the sea.
When he woke, we played in the water, as much playmates as lovers. It was like Eden, each moment so easy and unconscious. I spent the whole day in the moment, not thinking or hoping or trying to predict what would happen next, just taking pleasure in the perfection of the day. As it neared toward three, the air cooled off and we were both ready to dust the sand from our skin and peel the salty, damp suits from our bodies. I almost didn't want to go, but make a wish to have this day cycle over and over until the end of time. I'm sure eventually I would get bored, even perfect as it was, but it had been so long since I had a day like this where nothing I could have thought of or done would have made it any better.
We packed up our things, left the beach, piled our belongings into Dylan's car and headed back to my house. We were both quiet on the way there, lethargic from the sun. He drove steady with the radio off, just focused on the stretch of highway before us. I watched out the window, the faded metal signs of the coastal fishing shops and taco stands whirring past. The breeze lulled me into a trance and I nodded off. A gentle squeeze of my arm woke me up.
"We're home," he said. (to be continued ...) |
Formerly Fun
