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July 31, 2010 It was where the shore bore old broken conch shells and Man o’ War blue and beaten by the sun. They walked up from there and the two men whose names were Kyle and Richard, the ones that always quarrelled were talking about dinner. ‘I would eat fish but the fish is too salty there. I have a special diet,’ said Richard. ‘There is not a place that you like. Only in your imagination is there a place that you like,’ said the other man. The entire sea continued to crash as the two men and the group they belonged to headed towards the inter-coastal waterway on the other side of the street. Soon, in the night, the sea turtles born would confuse the electric light for the moonlight over the ocean. Then they would follow across the road and many would be killed. The group entered the hall of the grand eatery and were seated. It was dimly lit and a blonde woman sang songs while the group ate the salty fish. ‘Why does she sing that way?’ said Kyle. ‘Why does she sing at all?’ said Jacob, the youngest of the three men that were present. ‘Because she thinks she is famous, and this is her special night,’ said Richard, ‘In fact that is why she wears a gown like that. It is for when the cameras shoot her. She has to be ready.' Jacob drank beer and noticed that there was a younger party, in their twenties, sitting close to them. There was a beautiful and strong looking brunette there. ‘What about them,’ Jacob asked the waitress,’ who are they?’ ‘They are here every night. They are always here and they will all go with anybody they want.’ Jacob looked at the woman but she was very involved with her booth. Soon the singing lady stopped singing and there was a break. All the beer and wine had made the terrible company tolerable for Jacob. The dark lady was talking to him. He did not know when she had begun talking. Then he started talking, trying to explain something about symbolism in nature, or synchronicities, or both. The last thing he remembered her talking about there was when she said that her father had spoken to her through birds but not really. ‘When I think of him I see the red-winged black bird. I don’t think it is he in the bird, do you understand? I am saying that it’s a sign from him and that he sent the bird.’ ‘Yes, I understand.’ ‘And I know he is around always.’ ‘Especially in times of trouble.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And when the bird is there.’ ‘You are smart for your age,’ said the dark woman, and now released her hair from a band in the back. It hung in wisps that were long and it shined and looked healthy even in the slightly dirty light, even with a taste of sodium and ale, and even and especially against the pained singing of the soon to be famous strawberry blonde lady. ‘I am the same age as you about it seems,’ said Jacob. ‘Yes. But I am very smart,’ said the dark woman.
Then they were walking alone and without the crowded streets or the quarrelsome men. It was deep into the night, and sometimes there were reflections from the conch shells or something steel but both were beautiful. The sky and the space in front of them which was mostly black were fierce with energy that didn’t seem to have a source. The woman asked Jacob to kiss him. Far to the right each whitecap stood up briefly and went down in its rhythm that belonged to a longer and larger and more intricate rhythm. Jacob thought that he would like to never see the quarrelsome men again but knew he could not manage it. He also thought that the dark woman’s hair was more pronounced now and somehow turned a golden brown hue, that it had its own brand of gnosis never before discovered, and that she was better and stranger than he had at first thought.
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