The sea is perfectly calm today. Even the waves seem to be asleep.
He watched his wife, her eyes closed, her gentle snores synchronized to the ocean’s soft lullaby. Candy-floss clouds moved lazily across a clear sky, as the sun gleamed brightly forcing him to squint and look down.
The water moved softly around his outstretched fingers, nonchalantly caressing, eddying in its wake. He pulled his hand out watching the droplets drip, as gravity greedily sucked it in to the saline below, each one swiftly haloed by ever-growing rings, distorting the peaceful transparent sheath. His hand is cold, but his face is warmed by the summer sun.
Beside him the snores start to get louder as she takes in the ocean’s salty breath.
Smiling contently, he placed the headphones over his ears, allowing Bach’s symphony to override the ocean’s.
Eyes closed, he neither saw the fin circling, nor heard the screams from the distant shore.
In response to Susan Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, based on her photo prompt.