when nothing needs to be said

Small pieces of brown hair were carried by the sea breeze and ended up scattered throughout the stone, getting stuck on hot, damp skin. We could not hear the sound of the snipping scissors amongst the sounds of waves crashing, the kids singing and laughing.

We were quietly watching. As we sometimes do. When we reach a mutual agreement, when no words are exchanged, when what unfolds needs to be silently watched and listened to. We both laid there, still bodies that were still dripping cool salty water. The scene was framed by sparkling drops of salty water that hung from our wet eyelashes.

We quietly watched. It was a summer afternoon.

I am pretty sure they did not care about what we were doing, but I could do nothing but watch and listen as they sang together and shared a cigarette. They watched her and the crashing blue waves, as we watched them. They passed the cigarette and a bag of chips as she brushed his hair with a claw clip, the strands still wet from the sea. Skin shimmering under the summer sun, humming melody in the background. She moved slowly. With no rush, she cut off a few strands at a time. They discussed which house they would go to after sunset.

I closed my eyes and listened. We fell asleep to the sound of their conversation, the waves crashing against the rocks we laid on.

On film, by me. To be honest, I am really disappointed with the light leak on this one because you really cannot see much. All you can do is take my word. It felt like a movie. An Italian summer movie.