We will have little money, of course. We’ll sell off the house and car – and get nothing out of it after paying off the home loan. But how much money do you need to live?
We will cook spare meals. We’ll go to the beach every morning, swim in the ocean, walk on the sand. I will sit in the shade and write, while he sleeps. We will come back when the sun is high up in the heavens, and have lunch. It will be too hot to do anything by then, and of course we won’t be able to afford an AC, so we’ll sleep. We’ll get up in the early evening, before the sun sets, and race to the beach to catch the last rays on the water. We’ll frolic and get wet again. Then sit on the beach sipping tea and letting the wind dry us out, while the stars turn on one by one.
We will hold hands and look at the sea, and talk. There is always so much to talk about. There will be peace, away from the noise and the never-ending race of the city.
And I will write again, and the Guy, perhaps, will get bored and go home. By the time I finally gather up my laptop and walk home, it will have grown quiet. But I won’t be afraid, because I walk down this path every day, and everyone around here knows me.
I will go home to a dimly-lit room, and the Guy will be working on dinner. I will put my arms around him and he will push me away so that he can concentrate.
And then we’ll eat, from one plate, sitting side by side on the bed. Our food will be simple, but lovely. We’ll wash the dishes and then go to bed and make love.
I am not quite sure what the Guy will do in all this while. He will get bored of reading and lazing around. He will take up some kind of work, perhaps. He might open a vegetarian eatery – he loves cooking. He might just work for a few hours at someone else’s. He might take up a more regular job at the nearest town. I can’t quite imagine him happy in any of these roles, and I feel a bit selfish imagining him there, in my dream.
(Written a few months ago)