Change of guard
View(s):
She closed her book and took in the blueness around her. The cloudless, azure sky. Translucent aqua marine sea. She picked up a handful of the white, fine sand, like talcum powder, and let it fall on her bare legs. Everything around her was like an open invitation to spend the day outdoors. And that’s what they were doing. She and her father. Maybe it was time to join father. She walked towards the swimming pool knowing that she would find father there, swimming in his unhurried but elegant breast stroke, and as he always did, with head above the water. But there he was, sitting at the edge of the deep end, with his sports cap in hand, lost in thought and seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.
The silver in his close cropped hair shone in the bright sunlight. Like miniscule jet bulbs against a dark evening. He never tinted it. Father’s tummy sagged a little more loose than it used to be, and a little too loose than it should be. As she watched him from the shade of a palm tree, it struck her that her father was no longer young. Still strong for her, protective of her and always there for her, she had never thought of him as getting old. But he had aged. Suddenly, almost absent mindedly, father dipped his cap in the water and then put it on. After a few minutes, he did it again. She heard a few giggles from the pool. A small group of young men and women, about the same age as her were watching her dad as well, while frolicking in the pool. Obviously, they found him funny.
How dare they? But then, her father took off his cap again, dipped it in the water and put it on. This time she had to suppress her own giggle. Father was cooling his head in his own style. She had to admit it was funny when all he had to do was just get in the cool water of the pool. Anyway, she’d not have anyone laughing at her father. She took off her wrap, assumed what she thought was a sexy gait and walked up to him. She greeted her father with a cheerful ‘hullo!’ and sat next to him. Father returned the ‘hullo!’ and smiled, his rare but nice smile and looked up. When he dipped his hat in the water again, there were no more giggles. D de Silva.
Flash Fiction
Growing old and how people regard those shorn of their own power by age is beautifully captured in this very short story. This is what Flash Fiction is supposed to do. Give us food for thought and perhaps deeper understanding of the human condition by a minute tale. We would like more people to turn their hand at it and send us their contributions to this page. It is a joy to discover new writers and their power.
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