Storm in Eden

It was idyllic - the washed out sky with cloud-cover so low one could stick up a hand and touch it, the pewter sea flecked with white foam forming those Curlies that were so typical of the location, the distant cliffs to either side forming the cove that allowed the waves to take their peculiar shapes, the bracing sea breeze bereft of any unnatural odors, the bamboo lounge chair that was being employed by him to serve it's purpose - in short, a scene from paradise.

To someone who had just arrived on the sets, it seemed Adam was having the time of his life. Hiding behind those large sunglasses, with a Tuborg for companionship, a pair of swimming trunks to cover his modesty, lying without a care in the world, it would seem to the casual observer that, Adam, having consumed the proverbial fruit along with Eve, had managed to convince God to just evacuate his companion from the First Garden and leave him be.

But our "Adam", for we shall continue to refer to him so, was a troubled soul. Adam had realised sometime ago that nothing in the Universe was permanent. Not even change. Life, as he knew it, was always gone before he could even savor it fully. He had no regrets with his life. But some more time wouldn't have gone amiss - to say some things that needed saying and to do some things that needed doing. He wished some people would change instead of others that did. He remembered of events past. He smiled as he thought of the girl and the long walks undertaken in her company. His memory of all the times spent making wagers on all-night card games were hazy, but he blamed it entirely on the copious amounts of spirits he had consumed to keep up his spirits as he kept loosening his pursestrings. There were other memories from long ago. All in bits and pieces, jumbled. They waited for his mind to jog and catch up. But time and tide didn't wait for him. Time had closed some doors on him. There were paths he could never tread ever again. Some were petal-strewn and rose-scented while others were more or less formalin-based quicksands with a hint of ammonia in the air. And the tide - well, it was coming in. He got up to move his chair back inside his shack before it got wet.