I could hear the surf crashing against the shore, from the porch as I empty my beer. I came to this party hoping to shake this funk that has settled over me and have become bitterly disappointed not by the stale smoke or staler music, but by knowing that still a feeling of longing rests on my shoulders. I look out to the ocean, searching for anything to remove my mind for the here and now. A tap from the window behind me smashes through the peace I fought for. The smiling face of my friend Jeff, holding a beer up to his face, franticly waving for me to come in fills the window, a young girl wrapped around his shoulder.
Turning to re-enter the house, wishing he would just give up and we could leave, I take a final look down to the beach. Out of the corner of my eye, in the dim glow from the house lights I catch sight of a white clad woman, walking down near the shore line. As her dress flowed behind her on the light autumn wind it seemed to give her a light of her own.
I turn to go down the stairs as I hear the door open and a hand grab my wrist and pull me into the house.
"Hey man, were you going? I just scored us some more beer and killer smoke. It's only 9:30, and you're already trying to go off moping. You have been like this since we graduated college and that was just a few months ago." Jeff getting closer to me so no-one can here his rant. "All you need is a good drunk, some smoke and a piece of willing ass, man. I found a girl that has been eye fucking you all night and I want you to meet her."
Grabbing my shoulder he pushed/ led me to a side room, sliding the doors open to a dimly lit den. Placing two beers in my right hand and rolled smoke into the other and with a final shove to my back, I stumbled into the room and shut the doors behind me. As let my eyes adjust to the dim light coming from the fire lit in a glassed window fireplace. I scan the room and settle into the sofa. I light up the twist with my Zippo, snapping it shut with a flick of my wrist. I take a few hits and snub it out on the beer cap as I take a long haul of the cold long neck. I lean my head back and close my eyes as I barely hear the door open. I can hear the clicks of heals against the hard wood floor. I look up and see a skinny girl, clad only in a short micro skirt and a skimpy shirt, leaving her midriff exposed, a diamond piercing hand off her naval.
"Hi, you must be John. I've been looking for you; I just wanted to talk and get to know you but I didn't want to bother you outside. My name is Angel." She walked over to the couch, swaying from too muck drink as she flopped into the seat next to me. "I think you're hot, and Jeff was telling me you have been really lonely lately and wanted to know if I could help."
She leaned in closer to my body, the stale booze on her breath assaulting my nose. Her hands glide up my shirt as she tucked her legs under her body next to mine. Knowing from the every fiber of my being, that this to will not fill the void in me, she's too thin, too young and too trashy for my tastes. I try and relax, having been with a few girls before this one, fighting to enjoy myself in the moment. As her small hand fumbles with my belt and zipper, pulling and tugging at them in what seemed like an entirety, her plastic smile and constant giggling grating on my last nerve. Pushing her softly off me, she landed on the far end of the sofa, her legs flaying out from under her, and do to the level of drink in her system, falling on to the floor. I stood and zipped myself back up.
As I walked to the door, I look over my shoulder to see her climbing back on to the sofa, here skirt riding up in a most undignified manner, causing me to laugh out loud. As she looked at me with a reddening face, her eyes full of rejection and loathing.
"Get back here you prick. Don't you want this?' Her hand flowing over her young, too thin body, trying to show off what I did not want." or are you queer? That's it, you must be, nobody passes me up!" her voice growing in anger.
"I think that's my problem." I shoot back over my shoulder as I opened the door and walked out them. Turning to speak to her as the doors shut, "But the next time I feel the need to throw a hotdog down a hallway, I'll look you up," giving her a quick wink as the doors snaps shut.
Jeff comes over and grabs me by both arms in his hands. "Did you enjoy her man? I couldn't believe she wanted you over me, lucky bastard." Slugging me in the arm," Dude, she was smoking hot, and I can't wait till I tell the guys when we get back home."
I break free of his grip and shrug him off of me. "She's still in there if you want a shot; I'm going for a walk, man. Call me after you're done here, I'll be walking the beach." I walk to the door and grab my coat, stuffing beers in any pocket that they would fit in and grabbing a twist. My anger carried me out the door along with my unfilled longing.
The salt air and wind cleared my head quickly as I tossed back a beer as fast as I could. Sitting down by the surf I pondered what is missing in my soul. I never could figure it out, but all the women, booze and drugs could never leave me filled, but leaving me with a gnawing feeling that I just don't belong with age I was cursed with.
As I emptied by second beer, I look down and watch as the crashing surf climbs further up to me, leaving polished stones and shells at my feet. Watching it roll over and over again, I look up and down the beach for anything to loose myself to. About twenty feet down I see the stones and shell gather in a peculiar way. Getting up to investigate it, I notice that a foot print, left by the woman in white, indented into the soft sand was the cause of it. I could barely make it out, giving the amount of time that passed, but looking further down they were still there. Faint to my eyes but still, if I choose to, I could follow them. I start to walk, keeping track of the path left for me, looking down of any sign of the woman I saw before. I've walked about 30 minutes, unable to see the house I came from behind me. The waves have finally washed all the footprints away, making me feel more lost than before, so I sit down and crack open my last beer. Sitting down, my beer half buried in the sand, I close my eyes and listen to the roar of the sea. The wind picks up causing the sand to whip around me and bits of sand sting my face. Getting up, brushing the sand from my jeans and shirt to walk back to the house party I notice that the beach has become lit up from behind me.
I turn to see a small Victorian house, the bay windows glowing from the inside as a lone figure stands in front of them on a large wrap around porch. I look up and realize that is the same woman from earlier, her foot prints leading up to the house. I feel a pull inside me to walk up, but unsure how to approach her. Even a hundred feet away, I can tell she radiates something I have never felt coming off a woman before. I stand there, rooted to the spot, wondering how to go about approaching her house. I keep looking between my feet and the stairs to the house, till I spy her shoulder wrap, lying in the sand.
