The Pianist and the Author

Under the sun

Samantha was right. I had to be pulled off the volcanoes when the time came that we had to leave. They were just so amazing with their grey, lumpy rocks, covered in some parts with green moss.

"I don't want to get off this volcano!!" I refused to Samantha.

Once she lifted me up in her arms to get down the volcano, I told her:

"You nearly threw me off!" I panted, "Like, off the volcano!!"

"I would never do that," Samantha blushed and grinned at me, "Unless I jumped off with you,"

I went on my tip toes and kissed her.

After that we did go to the beach and relaxed underneath the warm sun. The sand felt hot and the waves were cool and refreshing. Samantha flaps a large beach towel and lies down on it. She looks so pretty in her new bikini. Her light skin will soon be a beautiful tan and her lovely legs are stretched out. She pulls out a book out of her purse.

I strip my dress off my bikini. I kneel on the towel that is already hot from the sun. My knees sink into the soft sand. I sprawl on my stomach like a starfish.

We lay like this in silence for a moment until Samantha put down her book. She rolled on her side and swung her left arm around my waist. Her forearm was nice and warm, but her fingertips were still a bit cool. It felt good.

I move towards her until there is only a few centimeters between our noses.

"You smell like sunscreen," Samantha told me.

"Are you trying to sound romantic?" I laugh.

"Well, yes," She chuckles, "Was I that obvious?"

"Did you put on sunscreen?"

Samantha's mouth opened in surprise and exclaimed: "Bloody hell! You're right, I did forget!"

I smack my forehead and take out my bottle as she frantically searches in her bag, which only contained books and notebooks and pens.

I rub in circles around her back, which is soft and hot.

"I hate sunscreen, but for once I'm appreciating it because you're giving me a nice massage," she says to me. I giggle. It's adorably dumb how she says things like this.

After our sunscreen scéance, Samantha goes back to lying on her back, with a big beige hat covering her face from the scorching sun. Now and then she lets out a sigh of relaxation, muffled by the hat. The heat is like a blanket, and it brings deep relief and calmness.

I reach into Samantha's purse and pull out a little packet of printed text stapled together in the top left corner. It is a small pad of paper, covered in words and letters that shape a new world. Samantha's worlds.

As I'm a little bored, I decide that I will start reading what she wrote. I take a quick peep at Samantha to make sure that she does not see me searching through her things. I don't actually know if she lets me. These sort of writings are very private matters to her, supposedly about her past life or something.

"A friend of mine", the first story read. It sounded like those vague titles that one does not ignore. Who's friend? What were they like? What did they do? And what was the special relationship between the author and that friend?

Ooh, maybe it was about me. Maybe it's a cute story of her and me together. Or maybe I kill her in it. Okay, that was a bit off, I don't think I should kill someone I deeply loved.

As I was reading the story, it turned out it was almost nothing as I had expected. It was way better, with jealousy, revenge and true friendship as its theme. The ambiance was dark. Very dark and at parts macabre. I honestly could not picture any light while reading her text, and it depressed me a great deal; I did not even finish the story yet.

Samantha lifts up her hat and turns around, towards me. She blinks twice and looks into my eyes.

"Oh, how was your little nap?" I ask her.

"What are you reading?" She inquired sleepily.

"Um... no... nothing in particular," I stammer, shoving the papers away under the sand. It's too late. Samantha pulls out the pad of paper and her whole body freezes up in terror.