Here’s a little whimsy for you. 🙂
“They Went on a Holiday”
His eyes are hidden by large rimmed sunglasses. You can see his handsome face in the rearview mirror, curly dark hair and beard, blue and white striped shirt. Her hand is out the window. The landscapes of Crete flow by them. She’s not one for being a tourist, she spends her time walking. He’s not one for anything more than the bar, she doesn’t know exactly what he does. They went on a holiday.
She dances barefoot in the bedroom till she hears raised voices. Thunk. Her ipad hits the floor. She looks out from a crack in the door. He’s talking to two people. He’s angry. Suddenly the house makes her claustrophobic.
Crouched, fingering the sand, the tide slowly comes in, the salt sticks to her skin. They went on a holiday but never spoke to each other.
Passing in the hall like strangers. Why does she stay with him? It’s the opinion, formed over a month by the locals, that she’s crazy. Such wide blue eyes. Such a penetrating look. Silent. Follow her around you ghosts. Tell what you can. She’s not silent. She hums. Trailing, mixing, interweaving melodies. This is how she communicates. He doesn’t understand. Even though they went on a holiday.
Playing hopscotch with little brown children. The sun warms her bones. Sweet silence. She breathes it in. Sitting in the smoky room, the pounding music, the blurred faces, they make her ache. Sadness so deep she can’t breath, unfriendly waves threatening to take her under. She finds herself in Crete. In the green hills, in this place of wild flowers, in the crashing waves. He’s packing, they leave in the morning. Her bags are outside on the porch. The moon is full. She can’t sleep. She pulls on a dress and sits outside. The waves, they call her name. The sweet silence of the place, how can she ever go back? She takes a walk and never comes back. He moves to Greece without a second thought. They went on a holiday, it was the best thing they ever did.