Almost naked, I was standing on a rock, its surface smoothed by pounding water, rain and wind. The sea en-isled us. Many yards away was a golden beach. To its right the tongue of a cliff moved in the crystal clear water. Huge palm trees looked like green parasols. The salty air and warming rays of the sun on my skin sent me heavenward. In my hands was a fishing rod, but I wasn’t fishing. I just stood there watching the colorful fish play games with each other.
From the moaning of the waves came a strange, deep, monotonous sound. It disturbed, angered me. Out of the sea came a line of black robed people, their heads shaded in hoods. Maybe forty or fifty of them appeared, dripping wet, walking in a slow rhythm. When they reached the beach, they began to chant a monotonous dirge. I could not understand the words. Why couldn’t I see their faces? Who were they? Where were they going? The procession stopped, formed a semi-circle around me. My near nakedness embarrassed me. The drone of the voices grew louder until I began to hum along.
Slowly, ever so slowly, the semi-circle formed into a straight line and disappeared behind a sand dune. The last figure seemed to hesitate and turned towards me. Without understanding why it was happening, I became sad, depressed and hurried to catch up to the group.
As I neared the last one, reflections of the sun lit the face under the hood. I was shocked, It was you, my beloved. I tried to speak to you but my voice failed. You smiled a sad smile, stayed still, as if waiting for me. My legs took wings and I ran to your open arms. You untied the heavy knot around your robe, and let your cover drop in the sand. It was easy for me to inhale so that my bathing shorts fell next to your robe.
We embraced with a strong ardor and I lifted you, carried you back into the sea. The sun was low setting into a deep red horizon. You grabbed my hand tightly as we walked out to the dying sun and died with it.
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