The Tides By The Sea

The Dream

The tides come and go, wash across the grains of powdery sand, reflecting the shimmer of sunlit glaze in the early morning. The summer always brings a balmy breeze by the sea; it is cool and dry, a soft and free temperature. Free of the afternoon heat, free of the humidity of the tropics and cool like an ice-cube of peach tea.

 

I could live here forever, if I had it my way, but truly it’s only in dreams these days that I exist in such marvellous bliss. Abandoning all cares and floating with a carefree mind, I’m liberated to explore the wonders of Cottesloe beach. Away from the past, here I’m finally one with myself!

 

I came here to return to my paradise and also to be reacquainted with Narelle and Emma. The two lovely ladies that jump-started my heart the last time I was here. It had been a long while since I was back. In such time, things have been rough to say the least. It was hard going back, with one problem after the next, each time getting worse. I was miserable there, with only a few bearable exclusions when I was with a couple of mates who did there best to make life more bearable for brief moments.

 

Now by the magnificent beach, my time seems endless. All is well for me for now, while I soak in the pleasures of doing nothing and think of only the beautiful half-clad female bodies parading before my eyes.

 

My time in Perth – Cottesloe and Fremantle soaking in the vibes and enjoying the summer is my sojourn from the emotional beating I’ve taken. And I hope to savour each moment to the very last – basking in the sun, sipping my beer and watching the pretty women pass me by.

 

I was rather smitten by Emma from years ago when we first met. She was my English Rose, sweet and gentle in nature. Yet not quite as prissy, Emma was more down-to-earth and kinder than your model types. She had charm but I don't think she knew it. Emma was always quick to articulate a compliment, and slow to criticise others. Her generosity of spirit captured my attention each time she spoke. I found her most pleasant to have around.

 

Narelle stole my heart the last time I was in Perth with her musical talent and her most enchanting voice. She sounds like an angel when she sings, and she certainly can carry a good tune when she tries. Narelle can also be somewhat modest with displaying her talents, I suspect that’s because she’s being a perfectionist and can be quite hard on herself. I respect her tremendously for her talents and hope someday to perform alongside with her in one of her performances.

 

As it is obvious, I’m in wonderful female company; my lady friends are overflowing with attributes both in personality and looks. I’m fortunate that such a reprobate like myself had the opportunity to engage their friendship. In some ways, I know I’m undeserving of a woman’s attention. I’m aware of my shortcomings, and make no excuses for them. Yet I’m not one of those people who would settle for less, in spite of my failings. I appreciate and am thankful for good company.

 

I count my blessings and each time I want to curse at my troubles. Only having to look back on my meaningful encounters with the many people who have contributed to my existence. Then, I hold my tongue and feeling less despondent, contented with how my life turned out.

 

When the tide was low back then, there were occasions where it was hard to look beyond the shores. It was unimaginable for me to believe that I’ll be this happy again. I was beaten but I refused to give up. I stubbornly held on to the flimsy string of hope that have enriched my soul. It's good to be back home.

 

Reviews

[Stephen K]

This is good, I like it. I can feel the emotional pain, and I love your descriptions and reflections. I would love to read more about your interactions with Emma and Narelle. Maybe you could mix it in with the reflections on your past. It does need a little editing, but I'm not one to talk. I usually have to go over my story several times before I find all of the grammar and spelling mistakes. All in all, I really enjoyed it, and wished the story would continue.

[Martin See]

I guess the reviewer Flo missed the point of this piece...it's not about settling for less, rather about achieving more...it's about coming out of a bad situation / place / circumstance and now feeling the bliss of coming home...home is representative of comfort, warmth, joy...

[Flo_writer]

The narrator seems to be content with his life rather than truly being happy. It's almost as if he would settle with his place in society even if it was a lowly one. And that makes me as a reader feel sorry for him. A very descriptive and sympathetic tale.

[H]

I think it was phenomenal. There was something tragic about it and it moved me. Sometimes, though, you go a little overboard with the details. Grains of powdery sand which look like talcum powder can easily be trimmed down to just 'grains of powdery sand.' We don't need the excess description. Most of us know what sand looks like.

I also wonder why we need to know that Emma was like Meg Ryan but less prissy? You have the sentence "she had charm but was modest about it" right under it. That bit of info is so much more important [and enticing to read] than your previous description. You don't need to compare her to a celebrity.

The ninth paragraph is a continuous sentence that could be trimmed down and split into separate ones. I'm not an elitist; I have worse habits. All I'm saying is that it would be good to go over your writing from time to time and see what you can cut out. (:

Oh and the last sentence seems a bit off. Maybe it's me.