Johnny sat on the beach, staring at the sunset, bathing suit nestled in the sand and arms wrapped around his knees, which were folded under his chin. He was sitting the way you were supposed to, when you were staring at the sunset, on a beach. He'd been there for two hours. Just like that.
The air had cooled and Johnny held is breath for a moment. It was time. Still he didn't move.
The waves grew larger and more violent for a moment, and then crashed, foaming. The thin vanguard sheet of water slid up the beach, farther than it had before, and, not surprisingly, to Johnny at least, deposited an object at Johnny's feet.
He picked it up. It was a letter-sized resealable plastic bag, with a letter inside.
Johnny unsealed the bag and pulled out the letter, taking care to keep it dry.
He read the letter, crumpled it up, and threw it in the ocean. It dissolved quickly, and disappeared. He laughed, loudly, and if anyone else were around, they'd feel embarrased for him, even if he didn't.
And he didn't stop laughing, even as the bombs began to fall, and the slick, black suited men emerged from the waves with their guns, and swept past him, as if he weren't there.
It was just another day.
* * *
No comments:
Post a Comment