The little girl on the rock

First chapter: Wonderings

The girl

They don't understand why I come here when I'm feeling bad. They think it just make me more angry to see the violence of the waves, to watch the wild anger of the sea. What they don't understand, is that watching or listening to violence can sometimes be such a peaceful and useful way to relax. I see that rage, I see that high destruction power, that endless energy, being wasted around me. And I feel better.

People find my relationship with the sea weird. They don't say it directly to me, but I hear them whisper, like a wind of critics blowing around me, laughing at me behind my back.

But I'm born with the sea, and I grown up with it. I will not leave it because of some stupid teens. And when I see the water running around my rock, this decision feels so right, as if everything was making sense around me. The sea has always been and will always be my best friend.

The man

I had finished my coffee. Now I had nothing left to do but waiting in this pub, with nobody to talk with, and nothing to think about: My family didn't really care about me, and at 27 years old ( yes, I was young), I had no wife or girlfriend who could worry for me.

After some minutes of just boring, my eyes found something interesting behind the window, something unusual, unexpected, and somehow this something was really beautiful.

It was a girl, a tiny little teen girl, who was sitting on a sharpened rock, over the tumultuous sea. And even if this strange scene was taking place right in front of me, I was feeling so far away from the girl, just like she belonged to another world, with its own problems and joys, completely different from mine. And maybe wasn't I that far from the truth.