Mistress of Dark Waters

Mistress of Dark Waters.jpg

She was standing on the bridge down by the beach as he was passing by. He didn’t really want to stare, but he couldn’t help it. She was gorgeous. So beautiful. Her hair flowed around her shoulders like the river at spring, her curves were smooth as the waves.

He was going to go past her, he really was. She turned and stared into his eyes. Her eyes were intense. Cold. Green like the sea itself.

Hello. Her voice was soft, like the sound of the salt water slowly entering the beach on a warm summer night.

Hello. He looked away. Kept walking.

Where are you going? She asked, her eyes penetrating his fragile soul.


Is anyone waiting?

He didn’t answer. She followed him.

They made love in the waves stroking the shore. She was good. Too good. Too much.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He kept looking for her. Walking the streets at night, the beach. She was no where to be found.

One night he heard her call. In the sound of the waves, he heard the sweet voice from the beach outside his house. He looked at the one lying in the bed beside him. The other one. She was asleep.

The beauty was waiting for him by the waves. The ocean was stronger today, fiercer. Her stare more intense, deeper. Wilder. He could not resist. She kissed him. Pulled him out, into the sea. Took him. Too good. Too much.

She pulled him into the waves and they disappeared into the dark water. He could feel his very being dissolve into the sea, becoming part of it all and nothing at all, floating into the sea forever.

The morning after his clothes were found floating in the shore.





  1. True story. Many decades ago when I was a young man, I lived in San Francisco. I worked a night job, so after getting off of work, I usually would do a few short errands on the way home.

    I was approaching my bank intending to use the ATM when around the corner walked a woman. She was African-American and to say she was beautiful would be to damn with faint praise. She was astonishingly gorgeous. I only saw her face for a few moments (she was wearing a long coat, so all I really saw was her face) but I was amazed.

    It wasn’t even lust or sexual attraction. It was like she was a work of art, like a beautiful sunset, like the most scenic view imaginable, only as a woman.

    I don’t really remember what she looked like nearly thirty years later, but I’ll never forget that moment.

    Liked by 4 people

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