A Sudden Gust of Wind

The balcony doors swing open, tossing sheer curtains. There’s no tingle from the wind chime. The sea remains unruffled. It’s a becalmed day.

“Anyone catching anything?” she asks. 

“Looks like only the bleach jugs are fishing,” he says, lowering his binoculars and turning to her. 

She’s fresh from a shower, wound in a green bath towel. A white one turbans her hair. 

Last night, after an argument that came out of nowhere during dinner, they sat on the balcony passing what was left of a bottle of wine in place of talking, and watching the heat lightning. When a distant hum of thunder grew audible, he spread a drying beach blanket over an inflatable sea turtle and tugged her down.