Twenty years ago, I took my daughter, Sara, to the ocean for her fourth birthday. She just learned to dog paddle, and proudly walked up to anyone in sight, saying, "I can swim." The sea was calm, so ... [+]
Jenny Moore writes funny children’s books (published by Maverick) and is a previous winner of the Commonwealth Short Story Competition. "Man on a Mission" is in Short Circuit #09, Short Édition's quarterly review.
"I may be some time," he said,
easing on his fleece-lined boots.
We laughed and clinked our empty glasses.
"To more beer," we cheered, "to wine,"
as he hauled himself into his puffed winter coat;
my Michelin man on a mission,
hat strapped tight beneath his chin,
harpoon at the ready.
He kissed me goodbye on the doorstep,
ice already clinging
to the tips of his powdered moustache.
Shivering, I watched him go,
waving him into the whiteness,
watching as the blank landscape
swallowed him, slowly.
Later, I found the second crate of wine,
forgotten by the kitchen door
and the waiting bottles of beer
cooling in an unseen bucket.
Later, I remembered it was June,
and this was California–
no footsteps in the white, white sand
to mark his icy passing.
easing on his fleece-lined boots.
We laughed and clinked our empty glasses.
"To more beer," we cheered, "to wine,"
as he hauled himself into his puffed winter coat;
my Michelin man on a mission,
hat strapped tight beneath his chin,
harpoon at the ready.
He kissed me goodbye on the doorstep,
ice already clinging
to the tips of his powdered moustache.
Shivering, I watched him go,
waving him into the whiteness,
watching as the blank landscape
swallowed him, slowly.
Later, I found the second crate of wine,
forgotten by the kitchen door
and the waiting bottles of beer
cooling in an unseen bucket.
Later, I remembered it was June,
and this was California–
no footsteps in the white, white sand
to mark his icy passing.