A Starry Night

Sybil was sat on the beach looking out to the dark blue ocean. It was a lovely day to sit at the beach and do nothing – it may have been windy, but that's what one can expect at the beach, and it was warm and sunny to make up for the wind. She was there with her husband, but he was down by the water instead of sitting by Sybil. He was attempting to skip stones unsuccessfully due to the choppy nature of the sea. Sybil stretched her legs out and leant back on her elbows. She curled her toes in the warm, soft sand, despite knowing that later on she'd get annoyed at having sandy shoes. She dug deeper to feel the much cooler sand caressing her feet. She looked over to the serene sea, mysterious and beautiful, watching the boats attempt to sail their way across the sea. Some of the sailors were obviously seasoned professionals, managing to deal with the uneven waves easily and with little effort, whilst some other boats were struggling to stay the right way up. She twisted her fingers in order to feel the sand over her knuckles and on her nails; even under them – it was all part of the experience of being at the beach. She felt her hair move in wisps across her neck, arms and back due to the warm breeze that was so lovely it seemed unkind to class it as wind. Her light-weight dress that came down just below her knees moved over her legs in the same way that her hair moved over her arms. Sybil now turned her attention to Tom. He'd taken his shirt off to take in as much sun as he could. As far as Sybil knew, Tom didn't know that he was being watched intently. She watched him bend down to pick up flat rocks; stand straight again and prepare to chuck them out to sea. He started by twisting towards his right and stepping his right leg backwards, whilst placing his left arm in front of him for balance. He then swung his right arm around his body, transferring his weight forward again and letting the small pebble go with an extremely precise wrist movement. One bounce… two… bad luck – the world isn't on his side today. Sybil then watched the white foam of the edge of each wave make its way onto the beach and then disappear into the sand. Sybil looked to her right and saw children building sand castles (some only actually attempting to build sand castles) with their older siblings and parents. She glanced back at her husband's muscular back and arms and wondered if and when they might have children together. She decided that she wouldn't say anything to Tom today; they'd talked about possibilities of having children enough times before that it wouldn't be long before the couple began to sound like a broken record. Sybil heard a squeal to her right and watched as a group of friends, around about Sybil's age, played piggy in the middle together. When the ball landed on the sand or in the sea there'd be a mad dash between the piggy and the player who was supposed to catch the ball in order to get to the ball first, often involving either or both people falling over, covering them in sand or sea water or both. She remembered playing piggy in the middle with her sisters when she was little and laughing until her sides hurt at times.

Sybil was caught off guard, still watching the exciting game of piggy in the middle, when Tom came over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, getting his arms rather sandy. He pulled her in for a kiss and then complained that the sea and stones didn't like him, but then he was stopped mid-sentence as a very young (probably only about three or four month old) golden retriever puppy crashed into Sybil's legs and dropped a soggy old tennis ball, looking up at Sybil hopefully, his large brown eyes begging for the ball to be thrown for him. Sybil cupped the ball on her hand, brought her arm back and threw. For Sybil, it was a brilliant throw, but if Tom had thrown the ball that far he'd have been mocked by every one of his friends. So when the sweet puppy, whose feet were too large for his body, brought the ball back, Tom picked the ball up and threw it so hard and fast the dog had a tough time keeping up with it and couldn't even attempt to catch it in his mouth. They then heard a man's voice calling someone called Archie – they assumed this was the dog, so Tom threw the ball in the vague direction of the shout in the hope that the dog would spot his owner and scamper off. But the dog just ignored the shouts that were getting increasingly more annoyed, and Tom threw the sodden, no longer particularly fluffy tennis ball further than before, just as the phantom voice showed its face. A tall, lanky blonde man appeared, carrying a young child, who was clearly loving the fact that her fairly new puppy wasn't obeying her father. He was getting more and more irritated that his dog wasn't listening to him, but relaxed a little when he saw that Sybil and Tom had absolutely no objections to the company and entertainment of a young, playful and enthusiastic dog. Regardless, the man apologised and Sybil and Tom watched as the puppy bounded around his owner's legs until they were no longer in sight. Sybil then leant back on her elbows as she had been doing when she was watching Tom at the waters' edge. Tom kissed her cheek, then the tip of her nose, followed by her lips. Sybil slowly sat up, still with her lips pressed against his. With their tongues greeting each other, she explored his bare chest with her hands, smoothing lightly over his muscles. Tom kept one hand on Sybil's cheek, gently moving his thumb over her cheekbone, and the other moved over her waist, hip and back. Once they split to take some more air into their lungs, Sybil questioned if he was after something, which he said he wasn't and he kept kissing her regardless, and Sybil by no means denied him his kiss. But then, without warning he stood up and offered her his hands, so she took them willingly and let her husband pull her up off the sand. She dusted the sand off her back and legs as Tom bent down to pick up his shirt, which he flung over one shoulder. Tom took Sybil's hand in his and led her along the beach, close enough to the sea that it washed over their feet and ankles. When Sybil asked where they were going, Tom simply told her that they were going on a romantic walk along the beach, which was an answer that Sybil took willingly, but didn't fully believe. Soon they were away from all other people on the beach. They'd ventured into a stretch of sand and sea that was seemingly deserted by all other civilisation.

Tom didn't have to lead Sybil far before they saw the light begin to dim as the sun began to set on top of the distant horizon. Sybil slowed slightly as she saw on the sand ahead of her a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice, two wine glasses and a bowlful of strawberries. She also noticed that there were blankets folded and placed to one side – presumably for when it got a little chilly. Sybil stopped in her tracks and Tom stopped with her and squeezed her hand. He saw that the expression on her face was firstly confused and then one that said, Oh God, Tom! What have you done? Tom replied to his wife's mute question with a smile, a wink and a peck on the cheek. Tom squeezed her hand and started walking forwards once again. Sybil sat down at Tom's gentle order, as he poured the wine into two wine glasses. He handed one to Sybil and then sat down next to her. He raised his glass and made a toast to them as a couple. Sybil still looked confused, but took a sip of wine anyway. Tom leant over to her and whispered, "Happy Anniversary," in her ear. Sybil clapped a hand over her mouth as her jaw fell open. At the hospital she'd had the month from hell and had barely had time to breathe, let alone think or remember dates. It made it worse that it was only their two year anniversary. Tom smiled, trying fairly terribly to stifle a laugh. Tom knelt up and wrapped his arms around Sybil, telling her that it didn't matter that she'd done nothing for the anniversary because he knew she'd had such a busy week and was miserable and knackered. Tom could tell that Sybil was about to cry so he kissed her nose, which made her smile. She almost stopped feeling guilty at that moment when she spotted the stars above their heads. Tom shifted his body to lie next to Sybil and looked up at where she was looking. Sybil stayed sitting, so as not to spill her wine, but let her hand fall from her mouth to the sand beside her. After a few moments, Tom sat up and found the strawberries. He put them between himself and Sybil and began to eat them with her. After a while Sybil stopped eating them and lay back on the soft sand, with her wine at her side. Tom then followed suit and grabbed a blanket to put over them. He took his wife's hand in his, wrapping his fingers in hers and squeezed gently. She squeezed back and moved slightly closer to him, not caring that her hair would be covered in sand when she got up. Together they looked up at the bright stars and wondered what was happening in the far reaches of the universe. Tom knew a lot about astronomy – one of his sisters was very into it and Tom had voluntarily gone on many a stargazing night with her. Because he had this knowledge he thought he should utilize it, so he pointed things out to Sybil in the night sky when the wispy clouds weren't in the way. He taught her which constellations were which and which stars actually weren't stars at all, but planets – though he didn't expect her to be able to remember everything he'd said in a few days' time. He kept going until he no longer got any response from the woman beside him. She'd gone to sleep. Tom decided it would be a bad move on his part to move her; if she needed anything at that moment, it was sleep… and lots of it, so he decided it was best for him to simply fall asleep with her under the starry night sky on the sand.

So, this was different for me - the only speech I put in this was when Tom said, "Happy Anniversary." I wanted to give myself a challenge and then see what people thought of it. I had the initial idea for this when I was on the beach while we were camping with friends last week and I used things that I actually saw - the sand was hot on top and cooler below, my friends and I did play piggy in the middle and a young dog (not a golden retriever actually) actually ran into one of our party. Let me know what you thought of this, because I think it ended in a bit of an anti-climax. I always find it easy enough to start a story, but ending one always becomes the tricky part.