The Shore, The Waves and The Lover





Shaima caressed my cheek as we watched the waves go back and forth in the sea. Her hand smelled like sand and mint gum, like herself. I turned my face a little and kissed her palm.

 

“You okay there, hon?” I asked when I saw the look on her face.

 

“Uh-huh.” She nodded absentmindedly.

 




“Why do people say that waves and the shore are like lovers? All I can see is how angry the waves are every time they reach the shore. Every time they touch it, they destroy everything it once had,” she said after a long pause, looking at the half broken castle-like thing I had tried to make for her.

 

“Maybe it’s just a fling,” I suggested.

 

“What?” she asked, clearly confused.

 

I laughed. “You know, maybe the shore is just too much in love with itself. It does try to make it happen with the waves though, but it eventually never does happen; the waves mess the shore up for a while every time they show up, but then the shore just goes back to what it earlier was. Maybe parts of it are now missing, gone away somewhere very far – but the shore will live, you know? It always does.”

 

She found my lips before I stopped talking.

 

“There are certain perks of dating a writer,” she said and smiled.

 


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