Life Imitates Art

I wrote what’s below the fold over a month ago.  Nice to see the RealWorld(TM) catch up.

There are so such things as…

“Brother,” Chris ventured, liking the sound of it, “does not the sea look odd to you, this night?”

In Anton’s exhale before turning left to look, Chris guestimated their host’s level of drunkenness.

“Hmmm!”  Anton narrowed his eyes.  “For the security of the state, I shall investigate this!”

He stood, not at all unsteady, and began walking purposefully towards the beach.  With a glance at one another, Chris and Cat did, too.  They wound their way through the few outbuildings of the hotel, catching up with him just at the sand.  Leaning on a lamp post, Anton shucked his shoes and peeled off his socks.

“Follow me!”  He called.

They did similarly.  Not knowing if Cat saw, Chris did note the driver about eight paces behind them.  They trotted to catch up with Anton.  The tide was in, so he was only a dozen yards ahead.

“What… what’s with the surf?”  Cat asked.

Each small breaker that came in was foaming in an odd, almost electric blue.  Lines of the same blue were flashing up and down the strand, as if parts of the sea were sending messages to itself.

“Amazing!”  Cat breathed.  “What’s going on?  Anton!  Wait!”

He was rolling up his slacks to his knees.  Was he thinking of going out in that?!

“Bioluminescence,” Chris said.


“This is a rare event:  a type of algae-bloom that emits light.”  He pointed right to where a wave seemed to crackle in with blue fire.  “Wait for that to withdraw, then run and jump hard on that spot!”


“Now, Cat!”

With enough wine in her to follow anyone’s orders, she sprinted the fifteen feet then jumped into the air.  Her feet came down hard onto the wet, compacted sand.

A bright pulse of light blue light surged up and down the beach.

“Oh my God!”  Cat cried.  “That was sooo cool!”

She ran back a bit, waited for another breaker, then did it again.

“Wha-hoo!”  She yelled.  “Anton!  Anton, did you see – !”

He stood with the water washing halfway up his calves, staring out at the flickering lights.  Careful to not get her dress any wetter than it was, Cat moved over to him.

“Anton?” She asked quietly.

“Tonight is a night of miracles,” he spoke plainly to the water.

“Is it?”

She saw his nod clearly in the electric blue.  There was a slight splashing behind them.  Finally, she thought, turning, Chris was…

With each wave, with each ripple of current, about half a yard around her cousin, the water was dark.  She swallowed hard.  Was… was he sucking the life…?  No:  staring at the water closer, she could see the ripples of blue twist and contort.  The algae, simple plants, were avoiding what they knew to be certain death.

‘A night of miracles…’

“Anton?”  He took his eyes from the sea to hers.  She beckoned for him to lean down.

Whispering into her former boyfriend’s ear, Chris could only catch part of one word and the whole of another: ‘bro-‘ presumably ‘brother,’ and ‘sacrament.’  He noticed both of them staring at him with an odd look in their eyes.


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