Calypso
She wore a blue silk dress cut on the bias, falling from her shoulders. When she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, he offered his handkerchief. She slapped it away.
The sun had set on the purple water, and night settled around them. She squinted to the west, off the coast, and the lights glinted metallically, stabbing the darkness. She imagined that she would look back on this moment in some distant future. It would be in the past. She would have survived it, just another experience to accumulate, something to collect for a someday existence.
He moved from foot to foot as if waves lapped at his sandals. He stretched out his hand. She stared at it, rubbing her palms on her smooth skirt. “If you want to go away, just go,” she said.
He bent down to retrieve the blanket, folded it up and clutched it to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She buckled her sandals and walked on the pebbled shore. Stumbling, she turned to see moonlight on his cheek. She wanted to stroke his mouth with her lips, hold him to her chest until he or the world crumbled. It was best to go back to her apartment. The water smelled sour; a dead creature lay on the beach, a decaying turtle.
She paced around her apartment, drew the curtains shut, a sliver of light cutting between where the fabric didn’t meet.
She wished she had taken his handkerchief.
Cezarija Abartis‘ Nice Girls and Other Stories was published by New Rivers Press. Her stories have appeared in Per Contra, Pure Slush, and New York Tyrant, among others. She participates on Fictionaut, ShowMeYourLits.com and Zoetrope.com. Her flash, “The Writer,” was selected by Dan Chaon for Wigleaf’s Top 50 online Fictions of 2012. “History,” published by The Lascaux Review, was chosen as April Story of the Month by The Committee Room. Recently she completed a novel, a thriller. She teaches at St. Cloud State University. Her website is http://magicmasterminds.com/cezarija/
