David Wakeling

The Seagulls over Rose Bay don’t like Wine.

 

It was late afternoon in September,
Stephen laid a blanket on the grass and opened a bottle of Pinot Noir,
He did this every year on the 9th because that was when Eliza disappeared.
He carefully opened the basket he had brought and prepared two plates of food.
He cut some brie cheese, Eliza’s favourite and placed some Atlantic salmon on crackers.

He shed a tear as he poured the wine.
The seagulls circled above enticed by the salmon.
The Sun in Sydney can be quiet in September and this afternoon was no different.
It just turned it’s head and sank behind a giant cumulous cloud.

Stephen fell back gently to the ground and closed his eyes.
The seagulls took this opportunity to steal some salmon.
They tried the cheese but throw it back.
Some even sipped the wine but it made them cough and they flew away. 

In his daydream Eliza came out of the sea like an angel.
She went up to Stephen and spoke as dreamers do.
“You silly boy, you should know seagulls don’t like wine.”
She touched his cheek and said “Au revoir mon amour”

Stephen opened his eyes and the lazy sun was bright again.
His heart was filled with a black joy that could fill the Earth.
And He wandered off leaving the picnic to the birds.
He whispered to the wind: à l\'année prochaine mon ami.