Down by the seaside


The wind bat­ters their face; the sea sings in their ears. The night is yel­low with hate. I look at them from my po­si­tion be­hind the house. They are like shad­ows.

She is my girl­friend. I don’t know him. They kiss, as I know they would: en­twined like a grapevine. A dog barks in the dis­tance. I jump, scared. The moon laughs at us all.

Jenny and I got to­gether a long time ago. We were very young: our hearts pure, our de­sires less so. We loved each other fe­ro­ciously: en­twined like a grapevine.

She told me she loved me — many times. We talked about start­ing a fam­ily to­gether: kids and all. We are en­gaged now. It is a big deal. And now this.

The ri­fle shines in the moon­light. It sings my re­venge - the joy of the kill - the thrill of the fall.

I point the ri­fle.

A cloud cov­ers the moon. I lose my tar­get - I lose my re­solve. Rain starts to fall. It washes my anger away. I breathe salt in the wind - lower my weapon - head home.

My train leaves to­mor­row - a new city waits for me. Jenny is right. We are no more.

The moon shines over the ri­fle by the side of the house - no clouds in the sky.