By G. K. Adams
Absurd, that’s what was. Absurd as sticking a funnel up a piggy-wigs’ ass. But here they were, in a pea-green boat seesawing across the ocean.
“Catherine, darling,” he said. “Pass the honey.”
“Al, dear, reach it yourself.”
“You’re closer than I.”
“You’re taller than I,” she said, “and you didn’t polish the anchor yesterday as you promised.”
“What use is polish?”
“What use is an anchor out here?” she asked, waving her hand. “Just an ornament – to be polished.”
“Your logic is twisted,” he said.
“At least I have logic. I’m not the one who wanted to set to sea with nothing but love and tea and honey.”
“And quince jam,” he said. “Don’t forget the quince jam.”
“I hate quince jam.”
“I had no idea, darling.”
“You never asked. You never ask anything.”
“Foul! And untrue.”
“True!” she retorted. Then she added, “A year and a day! A YEAR and a day! That’s how long it’s been.”
“Now, dear, we’ll reach harbor soon.”
Catherine preened her soft brown hair, then drew a jeweled compact from her purse and freshened her hot magenta lipstick. “What time is it?” she asked.
He studied the boat’s little mast and its shadow. “Quarter past four,” he replied. “Time for tea.”
She snarled in his direction, but fetched the kettle and teapot, and began to heat the water. She spread white linen on the table and measured tea into the pot. When the kettle came to a boil, she transported the pot to the kettle and carefully poured.
“Tea will be ready shortly,” she said.
“Thank you, dear. You’re such a pussy. Speaking of which . . . .”
“Not til after tea.”
The tea was brewed and drunk; the dishes washed and stowed. The sun began to sink toward the horizon. Long lavender and pink clouds stretched starboard and port.
“Now?” he asked.
“Now,” she said.
He carefully untied her sailor’s knot and slipped the blouse from her shoulders, which he kissed.
Soon a full moon rose above the sea. And they fucked by the light of the moon, moon, moon.
- - -
My fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in a number of journals, including The Legendary, Orion headless, Flashquake, The Linnet’s Wings and Foliate Oak Literary Magazine. I have served on the editorial staff of an allied health journal in the District of Columbia and as a technical editor for industry. My husband and I live on the Texas Gulf Coast.
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