The Beach Story
The moon went into hiding. Shy was drenched all over it. Digesting so much love was cumbersome for it to grapple with.
The clouds had come in at the right time. But they won't aid it for long. In minutes, the agony of having so many unloved scars on its surface with hurt it again. The Sea of Tranquility with its massive desolation will scream the most.
Millions of miles below, the two are at the beach thinking how life has given them what they wanted. Each other. Eyeing the gorgeous moon sneaking behind the clouds, they look at each other again. And kiss again.
The frothy waves turn a bit dark with the sudden absence of light. But they cannot lose their color. They were too overwhelmed witnessing the romanticism played out on the beach. The moonlight might shimmer on them and make them look pretty - to no avail. They roar to their best - to no avail. They still couldn't find a partner.
Another kiss later, he extracts a bottle from his rucksack. Old Monk. The finest Rum. This orgasmic moment of happiness should never be forgotten. A toast, a sip later, they again kiss. Time freezes again.
The moon looks onto the waves. The waves look up to the moon. Maybe there is really something called Love, they silently chuckle.
----
Totally fictional! Hopefully non-fictional someday!
The clouds had come in at the right time. But they won't aid it for long. In minutes, the agony of having so many unloved scars on its surface with hurt it again. The Sea of Tranquility with its massive desolation will scream the most.
Millions of miles below, the two are at the beach thinking how life has given them what they wanted. Each other. Eyeing the gorgeous moon sneaking behind the clouds, they look at each other again. And kiss again.
The frothy waves turn a bit dark with the sudden absence of light. But they cannot lose their color. They were too overwhelmed witnessing the romanticism played out on the beach. The moonlight might shimmer on them and make them look pretty - to no avail. They roar to their best - to no avail. They still couldn't find a partner.
Another kiss later, he extracts a bottle from his rucksack. Old Monk. The finest Rum. This orgasmic moment of happiness should never be forgotten. A toast, a sip later, they again kiss. Time freezes again.
The moon looks onto the waves. The waves look up to the moon. Maybe there is really something called Love, they silently chuckle.
----
Totally fictional! Hopefully non-fictional someday!
posted by Tejas at 1:02 PM
6 Comments:
WOWWW
WOWWW
WOWWW
Thats my good old Tejas... Amazing and yes very much my kind of writing.
Loved you ma man...
I am so so fucking happy !
whoaa! :o
sesuous post i muss say ...:D
how much vodka did it tk to get this conjured up?? (if u insist on this being purely fictitious tht is) ;p
happy writing buddy!:)
Those thousands of frothy waves were overwhelmed witnessing the romance on the beach. Wow! I can feel the flame of love smoldering in the hearts of the young lovers on that beach.
Those 'waves' – whether they originated from the depths of the sea or those at the surface of the sea – longed to touch the 'shore.' The shore was their partner.
Now don't say I sound like a matchmaker. :)
So beautifully said. Felt as if i was living that moment.Great!
Fictious? Really ? Too good to be fictious :)
@Rupesh,
Thanks for being such a great buddy. Love you always though not in this specific scenario :)
@Pri,
Thanks. Forget old monk, even vodka(bacardi) would do to make this post better :)
@Indicaspecies,
Caught me there. You should be in the matchmaking business :)
@Annie,
Thanks. If it brings on good old memories...am honoured :)
@Ashu,
Hahaha. Thanks. Someday will ensure it to be a non-fiction :)
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