• Darigan Daily Drop


I deliberately deviated cruising down an unfamiliar road that ended at the bay and parked and sat on the stone wall overlooking the bay in Saunderstown It was some sort of public parking lot but a large sign on a gate that led to the adjacent Saunderstown Yacht Club made it clear there was no trespassing. However, a small path cut the hardy/hearty Atlantic scrub and a family swam off the large slippery rocks. At the club there was a small regatta happening, small sailboats like moths skimming the surface.

On the other side of the small parking lot there was a large private wooden dock 10 feet above the water in the low tide. A man stepped cautiously down the ladder and into the water, a yellow ‘noodle’ swimming flotation device under his arms. A woman in a bikini stood on the dock with an inflatable inner tube, or modern version there of, looking down at the man and the water. She hesitated then let the tube fall to the water and the wind began transporting it to the shore. The man watched her and yelled loudly, “Aww… Janice! What the fuck!!!” Utter exasperation, almost screaming.

If Janice responded I could not hear. He started to swim after the inner tube thinking he might catch it but the eastern wind blew it gently but forcefully into the red tide sea weed along the slippery shore. He swam and stood, stumbled and slipped, the noodle under his arms slapping him in the face. He stood upright and slapped the noodle hard on the water 3 times, “Fuck fuck fuck!!!” he yelled, his voice cracking. He slipped again and caught his balance and gripped the inner tube and flung it in the water, the yellow noodle still wrapped around him. He paddled with his feet awkwardly back towards the dock. Janice was gone.

“Fuck!” he yelled, and slapped the water with his hand. I got in my car and drove off, realizing how relaxed I really am.

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2019 copyright, Michael Darigan                    Stone Silo Presss, Liberty, Maine

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