By Bart Vogelzang

Plink. A droplet hits my camera.
Strange. Where did that come from? Can we be getting rain? The winter sky is clear; the winds are calm. Another. What is going on? I look up and see…sun. I feel a coolness on my cheek. Oh my God. I’m crying!

The breakwater, warm beneath me, holds me firm; I cannot sink into the earth. The rough concrete eats into my butt, as I cave inwards, imploding, a black hole, dying. Shudders wrack my body, heaving sobs tear from me, and I am alone. There is no-one to hold me, comfort me, console me. I am alone. Alone. So alone. And yet…

Far down the breakwater, the sound of laughter, joy, togetherness. Friends, on bikes, approach. They stop, to jump their bikes from breakwater to dead fallen trees, giants awash in sand and flotsam, balancing…just so. Failing to fall, and failing miserably. Youthful beauty, vigorous enthusiasm, life celebrated second by second. Strong limbs, glorious smiles, happiness and contentment. I revel in their joy, drink in their beauty, silence my pain.

They see me, and joy, they do not turn away. They perform their acrobatics right before me, turning me into an audience of one. Sleek, and powerful, they cavort, proud in their masculinity. Then…they are done.

“I hope you got some good pictures!” was thrown my way as they sped off, towards the distance sun.

Plink. A droplet hits my unused camera.
Strange. Where did that come from? I am feeling great; it cannot be me. Shudders wrack my body; heaving sobs tear from me, as I am…once again, alone.

© 2005. Bart Vogelzang. All Rights Reserved