Victory
That summer night was damp and translucent by the seaside. Gray clouds hovered around the full moon. Stars wore the veil of dark fluffy blankets and moist sand particles formed a velvet bed close to the shore.'I wonder how it feels like to catch the moon. How it is like to conquer magnificence.' I shouted the words out to overcome the roaring of sea waves.
'If you shoot for the Moon and then catch it you lose the ground. You lose your origin.'
She turned her face to answer me. Her hair, teased by the sea breeze, blowing over her cheeks. She continued:
'When origin is lost, your meaning is lost. And when meaning is lost, you are lost.'
The sea waves tickling her soles dropped off some sea shells.
I set one of it open and felt the joy of hope meeting its end. A hope to find myself a pearl.
'Lost as one form but found as another one.' I held the pearl; a small moon, in my palm in front of her sight.
She smiled.
'See? Every victory demands a sacrifice.
But in the end it's victory; reckless and appealing.'
She snatched the pearl from me and giggled a tease. Giggles that made the rash waves dance in harmony again.
