Sunday, 15 August 2010


The heat off the stones shimmered as it snaked its way up his bare legs. The slight breeze stirring the waves like a mirage, as they inhaled the sun drenched air. Her feet sat in his lap, sand still clinging to the tops of her feet and ankles as he absent mindedly brushed it off.

The light off the whitewashed buildings around them was blinding, and he squinted slightly at her relaxed face; eyes closed, dark lashes still wet from the sea. Her hair lay in lank, tangled, salt matted waves down her back, soaking into the bodice of her flimsy cotton dress, sticking it uncomfortably to her skin. The soft ruffled edge fluttering around the tops of her thighs as the heat insolently caressed.

The bougainvillea crept over the wall behind her, dark pink against the lurid white and blue. Greece was all about colour. Vibrant vivid colour and light. And heat that sucked your breath.

They weren't speaking. Not because of tension or uneasiness but because it was unnecessary. They were doing what they always did, unconsciously, and spoke without words. Without even looking at eachother, whole conversations of unspoken thoughts.

It had been a few years since the original European holiday. And time had changed things a little. There was not the instant lust on looking at eachother now, but something more complicated. Tangled. Entwined.

She picked up an olive and bit into it, the fragrant oil running down her chin unnoticed as she savoured the texture, the flavour mixed with the tang of salt from the sea as he picked up a piece of mint from the platter and crushed it between his fingers, letting the rich oil permeate the air.

As ever he was watching her. Watching the play of emotion and thought on her face, the endless performance that only he saw. Utterly relaxed, in the way that only 2 people who truly understand each other can be.

1 comment:

Averil said...


I miss you. Stop holidaying. Come back and post.

xx Smiles, Ave


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