They’re not exactly a traditional couple. She lives on a deserted island in the middle of the western sea. He’s a boat that takes passengers here and there, wherever they want to go.
Every few months, he docks on her shore empty of passengers. Nine passionate, exhausting days later, he leaves. Each time, he carries new passengers on board, passengers born of the deepest recesses of her mind.
“It’s been several months since I’ve seen you,” she writes in the journal that they share. “Come back soon.”
She leans back on the bamboo beach chair, skin bare and dark and glistening.
Wave caress the shore with whispering fingers. Lovers search for lovers. Pilgrims long for home. But, no one knows how to find her island. No one knows, except for a single ship, dark blue like the ocean. Atop the ship, a golden bell announces its coming and its going.
If you stand by the shore at night, breathless and in need, you might just hear its call. Then, if you dare, you can step into the island of our dream.