Bedtime Stories – Memories of summer.

Everything is so relaxed here. I lie on my towel on the perfectly shaped beach. Next to me, a grandmother leans on the rock and reads Agatha Christie. Behind her is a german couple, where the girl is reading from a book to the boy. And I’m reading “Find me”, the sequel to “Call me by your name”, and it’s just great.

I eat arancini and cherries.

The waves are rushing.

Every once in a while I go for a swim. The water is perfect, not too warm and not too cold.

Every day should be like a day by the sea.

And as I drift in crystal blue waters, he appears.

I can see him from afar, as he stands at the top of the stairs. His bald head shimmers in the sun. Just like his steeled, golden-brown body. He only wears simple purple-blue swimming trunks and white flip-flops.

He comes down the stairs very slowly, not looking at anyone. Not at me neither. He looks good – and he knows it! – and he just fits into this perfect afternoon.

I call him Giancarlo, because that’s the name of the nearest (of course discreet) user on Grindr. I can only hope he’s gay, otherwise it would be a loss.

After being out of the water, I keep pretending to read, but of course I keep constantly peeking over at him through my sunglasses.

He goes into the water twice and listens to some music while the sun dries his juicy skin. Just good enough to eat.

And then… he just left. As soon as he came.

Later, when the shadow moved in, I lie down on the spot where he lay. And the warmth from the still glowing sand rises through the towel into my body.

Or is it his warmth?

It feels good anyways…