ADSactly Fiction: Tripping Over An Impossible

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Tripping Over An Impossible

On the morning of that January day, the man had met the woman in line to buy the tickets. His air trip had been canceled, so he had decided to leave by boat, even though the trip lasted three hours. He smiled at her and she responded with a slight nod, typical of some women who do not want to engage in conversation with anyone. Later they would coincide again: his seat was next to hers. There, the man began the conversation with a trivial subject, as usual. The woman's voice was sweet and her eyes were a strange color. Her black, wavy hair was tangled in the fingers of the woman who combed them at every moment.


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With the ship in motion, many passengers walked down the aisle and others continued to sit in their seats browsing books or newspapers of the day. Amidst smiles and pleasant conversation the two passengers heard the captain's voice on the loudspeaker informing them that one of the ship's engines had malfunctioned, that the ship would stop at one of the nearest islands. They took it easy and as a possibility to keep talking and getting to know each other. When they arrived at the island, the captain asked the passengers to disembark while the repair was in progress. The man and the woman decided to go for a walk, have a coffee, do some shopping: continue the conversation. The sun had a radiant light and the blue covered the sky and the sea was swollen by the breeze. The landscape did not have the anguish of time and those two savored every word as if it were the first and last.


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When they returned to the boat and were informed that they would be spending the night on the island, there was no complaint or concern. Man and woman looked at each other as they had done all afternoon: with a thousand year old complicity. Nobody knew that the two decided to have a few drinks in any bar on the island, that the night found them alone, sitting at a corner table. No one knew that they stayed in the same hotel, in the same room, and that the next day, at dawn, they quietly said goodbye, knowing that they would never meet again.


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Back on the boat, they sat next to each other in silence, each imagining and remembering the world to which they would return. Without realizing it, something in their faces changed. Now they looked at each other with sorrow, with a certain sadness. The man wanted in a moment to take the woman's hand and she dodged that gesture in a nervous and abrupt way. She looked out the window and felt that there was too much black in the sea, too much gray in the sky. She felt that something inside her also roared, she was enraged like the waves crashing against the ship. The man pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was nervous. He is afraid to speak, to say a word that will open more the crack that has been born between them. So he decides to keep silent the whole trip.


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When they reach the port, the man and woman get off the boat carefully. A wind is blowing that ruffles their hair, but they still walk slowly. Inside them the island is a place that is dying, that must die. At one point, they must say goodbye and they do so without a kiss, just by shaking hands, as if they were two strangers. When the woman comes home, she sits on the couch and covers her face with a cushion. From the rhythmic movement of her chest, we know that she cries. It is a silent cry, almost imperceptible. Inside her, she knows that there are doors that should never be opened or closed. Miles away, the man is alone in his car. His body shivers, his retinas vibrate, he does not smile. His thoughts are far from the mainland, where the skyscrapers tower like a perfect mass of glass and cement. While he's in the car, he rings his cell phone, answers it. On the other side of the line, a female voice tells him that she is waiting for him for dinner and he just thinks how nice it would have been to stay on that island.


I hope you liked the story. I remind you that you can vote for @adsactly as a witness and join our server in discord. Until the next smile.

Written by: @nancybriti



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5 comments
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Its a beautiful read. Sometimes i am caught in the nest of deciphering temporary feelings from the true ones.

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Sometimes it happens! The idea is to be vigilant. Thank you for commenting.

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The game of the lovers - strangers or rediscovereds - is always a very attractive motif in the common narrative, literary or cinematographic, and you pick it up very well in your story, @nancybriti. A certain ambiguity at the end creates the conjecture about if they are really strangers, or if they are experiencing a rejuvenation of their attraction as a couple. And that makes your text more interesting. Thank you and greetings.

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As always, you have deciphered the meaning of the story very well, @josemalavem. There are postponed loves that know neither time nor space. Greetings and thanks for commenting!

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