The man looked out at the sea and the sky, separated only by a thin line of grey. It was dawn. The grey spread upwards like a wash on a water color. It was followed by a wash of gentle rose, which infused the clouds with red, as if they sucked the color from the sky and concentrated it. The sea remained grey with gentle swells. Behind him, a hint of green began to seep out from the hills, and white dots that were sheep were becoming visible. The man stood on the beach of stones, smoothed to perfection by a billion cold washings, and held his face up to the wind. He wore a sweater made from the wool of the sheep behind him, and held a glazed mug from the village down the road to his face to take off the chill of the wind, as he waited for the sun.
It rose into the sky in thin concentric paintings of gleaming yellow spreading upward from the sea, spilling light onto the waves. He watched the last curve of its orb rise above the horizon through tears, which refracted light into a thousand glimmers in his eyes. He stripped off his clothes, and ran into the sea.
Category Archives: Snippet
All in
He had never been a gambling man, really. Yes, there had been the odd bet here and there, a quid or two on the footy matches. But that was safe stuff, wasn’t it. He wondered if that thing inside of you that makes you go all in was broken. He’d only done it once–gone all in, gone for broke, whatever you wanted to call it. He had put his heart down too along with the chips. And it had all ended rather badly, with him broke and broken. He was better now–or mostly so. But that bit that did the choosing, the bit that looked at the odds, then plunked down bets, seemed forever stuck on input, checking faces, counting cards, and broken beyond repair.
