Dusk on a Weekday

There is nothing like it. To float in the lukewarm ocean and stare at the sky on a weekday. From the corner of my eye, I see the sun spraying out violent colors of yet another sunset. The beach is empty save for a couple of people far enough away to be just specks, and not people. Cradled by a bed of water, I hear something plop by my left ear. I don't quite care, I'm just singing out loud every second song that comes to my mind and floating there, face to the gods, watching the cottonball sky gradually drench with dark.

I look towards my friend, and he is far out in the distance flopping around making like a dolphin and trying to impress some imaginary girl in the distance. I swim over but halfway through realize that the stamina of a smoker is not the most dependable. It wasnt funny at all to realize it was deeper than the whole 5'7' of me and that my underdeveloped and unrehearsed poodle paddle wasnt keeping me up too long. My buddy wades over, in slow motion that I can only conclude was deliberate, and pitches me towards the shore, afloat on my own again. It's dark and I'm beginning to itch. We fathom those little jellyfishies exiled a disobedient tentacle that passed us by as we trudge out of the water and drape our drenched selves over the beach chairs. Night is falling and tummies start growling. Time to leave the Shaab Beach Club and seep into the snail paced traffic of Gulf Road, blending into one of everyone else; in a hurry to get from somewhere to somewhere else. The engine revs.