Island in the Sun

“When she felt the coral sand under her bare feet, all the anguish left. The tide was turning and she saw the boat had accompanied her on her journey speed towards the open sea.
She turned around and took measure of the small island. The inhabitants seemed very much like other islanders she had encountered. The fought with their neighbours, they told their pushy youngsters off, they made love and the old ones perished in solitude.

Her eyes went back to the sea. Flying fish was jumping in the far distance. A group of dolphins was cruising near by. A gigantic cloud bank was growing even bigger over the mainland.
She could hear the sound from a motor boat. A fishing dhaw appeared and went around the cape. The burly men were shouting and soon a net was in the water, circling a school. Their excited calls made her realise how long time it had been since her last meal, but she was still too tired to eat.

The tide had enlarged the beach and she found a spot where she could have some space for herself. The natives continued their business as usual. Going here and there. But they kept an eye on her all the time.

Suddenly she felt the moment had come. She spread her ruffled feathers and sailed into the sun.”

This is the story I wrote on the minute island that was our final stop during the Metafari. Sitting in the sun, getting red and enjoying every minute of it.