Tales Written in Sand [Nesebar, Bulgaria]

by - July 27, 2016

 Four in the afternoon. The bus going from the old town of Nessebar to Ravda. A very loud group of teenagers at the back. At the front, sitting to my left, an elderly man with an expression of scorn. The ruckus from the back gets louder and their laughter drowns out the disapproving sighs and mumbles of the other passengers. The man grunts and I brace myself for the almost inevitable soliloquy about the horrible youth of our times and the decline of society. He then breathes in... out and, without turning to anyone in particular, whispers "Even children are forcing their laughter now."

 She was a diamond, or at least she shone like one under the fluorescent lights of the club, and she never danced alone. We could hear running up the stairs at five in the morning with someone, giggling, occasionally uttering words in Russian in a low, husky voice; then we'd hear her scrambling for her keys in her handbag - the apartment next to yours. We weren't quite sure how her skin was so bronzed, when she was always chasing moonlight instead of the sun's rays. But sometimes we would catch a glimpse of her sitting on the balcony, shaking a cocktail glass in her left hand and gazing at the sea with what seemed to be longing. That is the only time when we noticed the dirt under her fingernails, and that one of her teeth was chipped from opening beer bottles, But we knew that as soon as the sun went down nobody else would either.
It's the little things that give people away.

 If I had to pick the best "French" thing for me, I would choose Mireille and my Peugeot 205. The difference is that I'll probably still be listening to Mireille in the afterlife, but my Peugeot is about to be picked up for scrap. That's the way it is! Optimists inclined towards the classical, such as myself, would say "Sic transit gloria mundi", but deep inside they'll be thinking of the phrase "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened."

  Service is always slow in crowded restaurants, but drinks and evening breezes make the wait bearable. Besides, it is hard to be frustrated when national folk songs are playing and a smiling family is doing a horo dance around the tables Then everything stops - music, dance, eating. The only light remaining outlines the silhouettes of a woman with her hands on her face and a man down on one knee. We can't hear what is being said, but soon enough those near them erupt in cries of joy and clapping. The two embrace and, eventually, disappear behind the crowd standing up to congratulate the newly engaged.

 "The sun takes a long time to go down." says mi amore whilst fiddling with the settings on his camera. I am circling around in search of interesting shells and gifts from the sea - a futile quest, given how late it is. In my search, I accidentally splash a bit of water at my love and he recoils in pretend indignation. I take this as a sign to repeat the action, consciously this time, and he responds by leaving our electronics on the nearest sunbed and kicking a wave back at me. We start attacking each other, sinking further into the sea until the water is waist-high and what's left above it is bathed in the full moon's honey glow. He's holding me in his arms now, spinning me around and around. I'm laughing, feeling like I'm flying a mile above the ground and clinging onto him as if he is the only thing keeping me from falling.

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  1. It has been a roller coast trip to read this one, as it mad eme think it was going to be about social evaluation of the youth or our choices but it ended with a very personal experience. But then again, Is not life what it is about, all big words like democracy, economy, liberty, society... these are all at the end of the day what we expereince in our daily lives. Maybe the old man was right many things are forces in today's youth's lives but I am glad at least one of the young people had a genuine flight without wings. Have a blessed life ...

    1. I do hope that this is not an indirect way of saying that the post ended up in a very anti-climatic way, haha. Though my lack of commentary on the stories was deliberate - it is up to the reader to interpret them, and perhaps share their opinion. Though, truth be told, the arrangement was also deliberate, so perhaps the solution to the dilemma lies in that.
      As always, thank you for your input. And blessed be!

  2. Please tell more stories pls tysm