Sólstafir

Thousand Word Flash Fiction

            “Well, here we are.”

            Gwern wearily gazed out the window of the faded taxi; all in all it wasn’t much, at least not for how much this trip had cost him.  Digging into his pocket, Gwern pulled out the wad of cash which made up the remainder of his savings.   Handing over the fare, he stiffly exited the cab.

            “Reynisdrangar” stated the cab driver; as he turned off the car, and likewise opened his door to step out onto the black sand.

             “Rain-is-drunker?” asked Gwern, trying to taste the odd word on his tongue.

          The cabbie shrugged, not particularly surprised by Gwern’s poor pronunciation, “Icelandic is difficult to speak.”  Digging in his pockets, the man pulled out a pack of smokes; smacking it a few times he pulled out a cigarette.  Leaning back, the cabbie lit the cigarette.  “But you know, Icelandic has words that you can’t quite express in English.”

            Gwern glanced at his companion, surprised by the abrupt conversation.  Their journey here had been one of silence; perhaps it was just the tobacco talking?  He had not traveled to a secluded place like Iceland for conversation, but…

            The man did not seem particularly concerned with Gwern’s silence; gesturing towards the horizon, he mused, “Sólstafir.”

            Gwern gazed out over the waves, looking toward the setting sun; it was a nice enough bit of scenery he supposed--the way the sun desperately peeked its way through the horizon.  But to be honest, he had not come to Iceland for the scenery.

            Taking a final drag from his cigarette, the cabbie looked at Gwern with wary concern.  Digging in his thick jacket, he pulled out a small notebook.  Scribbling a note, he handed it to Gwern, “Here, my number.  Give me a call if you need a ride back.”  Running a hand through his greying hair, the man added, “Even though summer nights are short, it can still get a bit chilly.”  Awkwardly he added, “So take care of yourself.”

            Quietly pocketing the note, Gwern barely even heard the man drive away.  So this was it?  This is what he had traveled all this way for?  Looking both directions, he awkwardly removed his shoes.  Stepping out onto the dark sand, he took a moment to take in the sand which he squeezed between his toes.  It was cool, not as cold as he had expected.  Iceland wasn’t what he had expected.

            Making his way down the beach, towards the waves which churned and crashed against the shore, Gwern tried his best to clear his mind.  That was, after all, what this trip was for.  Sinking to the sand, letting the soft earth curl up around his skin, Gwern gazed up at the sky.  Cloudy…  He wished he could just gaze up at stars for once; but it had been nothing but clouds since he arrived here.  Smirking at himself, Gwern rolled over in the sand, resting his head on one arm.  With how short the nights were here, the sun was as much to blame as the clouds.

            Idly running his hands through the sand, Gwern wondered why he was here in the first place.  He had expected snow more than sandy beaches…   Frustrated, as much with himself as anything, Gwern threw the pebble back to the sea.  Why couldn’t he let it go?  Even here, in the middle of nowhere, in the most remote place he could think of, he still was remembering her?  What was even the point of black sand at night? 

            Running his fingers through the sand, he mused sardonically, “…you’ll need to go further north.”  That was what she had said after all; yet here he was?  His fingers now caressing, teasing the sand absentmindedly, Gwern forgot that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her.  He had remarked on how pointless it was to build in the snow; it would all melt anyway.  She had laughed those words; but despite remembering something so small, he couldn’t remember the sound of her laughter.  Now he couldn’t even…  What use was there in memories like this?

            Gwern shivered, the night air was finally starting to set in his bones.  Even more awkwardly than getting out of cab, Gwern got to his unsteady feet.  Pulling out his phone, he flipped it open--no signal.  Whatever.  He was too tired for this.  Rubbing his bloodshot eyes, Gwern wondered aloud, "What now?"  Strolling along the beach, he imagined the many feet which had passed by this spot--washed away by the tide.  Why did he make this trip anyway, why did anyone?  But then and again, it is precisely for this sort of thinking that he was here.

            Gazing towards the horizon, Gwern noticed that the sky was already shifting an indigo hue; the nights really were short here.  Rubbing his hands together, trying to cast off the moist air which stuck to him, Gwern pondered what this trip would have been like if Iceland was what he had expected.  Could he have moved on; moved on from black sand beaches and cloudy skies, from melting snowmen and melting apart?  Was this it?  Did he need to go further north?  Reaching down, Gwern scooped up a handful of the smooth sand, and lobbed it as far as he could towards the ocean.  He knew full well that no matter how far he went, he would never forget her… never remember her laugh.  His eyes trailing to the clouded horizon, Gwern paused, awestruck.

            Through the clouds, precisely because of the clouds, was the most beautiful sunrise that Gwern had ever seen.  F**k…  he hadn’t come here for the scenery.  Sinking to his knees, unable to stand, he grasped at the lone ray of light which felt like it was meant for him--him alone.  Gwern felt those tears which had kept him from dreams finally streaming down his face.  So was this what she had tried to tell him?  Now, when it was too late; he wished he had known

...Sólstafir.

Reviews

[Solar]

/The man did not seem particularly concerned with Gwern’s silence; gesturing towards the horizon, he mused, “Sólstafir.”/

Driven by lost love, a man is brought to his knees by a ray that shines like hope.
This flash fiction is written so well - from the atmosphere and location details to the inner landscape of the main character.