The Sun, Fat and Yellow, Sets Slowly
We are sitting on rocks overlooking the Mediterranean, and the waves lap and spray at us, slightly out of reach. If we get wet, we get wet-the water is glorious, fresh and clean and cool. The afternoon sun shines in our faces as we sit and recite three things we are grateful for, other than the sunset. I hear her voice for the 12 millionth time and it may as well be the first–I never tire of it, it never wastes a breath. The sunlight carves a bowl in the mountains behind the Spanish coast.
We only list off our three things, but our lists could go on forever. Most of all we feel blessed to watch this masterpiece, knowing we need no wealth, no cars or jewelry or any other object, no home, no influential friends, no correct religious or secular doctrines, no fake boobs or even makeup for that matter to enjoy it.
We have everything we need right where we are, and we are in the right place at the right time.
And when the sun rises tomorrow, we'll be facing in the opposite direction, watching the sun paint the day new. It's wonderful to be with someone who gets it.
Wait, is this supposed to be fiction?