Full circle

“Let’s go to the beach,” Arturo said.
“And do what?” came Luis’ quick retort.
Arturo gave him a look from down under.
“What we always do.”
“Why should we do what we always do?”
“Any better idea?”
“It’s just that nothing ever happens here. Not here, not on the beach. Same old water, same old waves, same old fishermen with their nets.”
“And same old us.”
“Right. Same old us.”
Arturo turned to the other two, Joaquim and Pedro, who sat on the low wall phlegmatically, squinting into the sun.
“What do you two think?”
“About?”
“What we should do?”
“Let’s go to the beach. We can get into the water,” Joaquim said.
“Yeah, we could do that,” Pedro echoed. “Or play.”
“Like what?” Luis the skeptic said.
“Now that we’ve wasted time and achieved nothing, we’ve truly come full circle,” said Arturo. “As usual. I’m going home. Drink something.”

– James Steerforth (© 2021)

(150 words)

Photo credits: Artur Pastor, Póvoa de Varzim, Portugal, 1950s/60s

About James Steerforth

I am an author of poetry and fiction, translator and painter who loves to have fun with borrowed feathers.
This entry was posted in Creative writing, Flash fiction, Life, Literature, Writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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