Icke is a girl, the day I met her was a good day; so has everyday.

Keeping my balance on the jetty was hard however keeping my cool when walking along a pretty girl required a state of mind.

“On 3” I said; as I was adjusting the water mask. My heart was pounding double time. Her smile shined as the sun rays struck her teeth, reflected back onto my sight blinding the sea from my view.

“1, 2” I started counting, when she pushed me into the water. I fell like a child’s first time jump in a training pool. It was one of the only times It felt good to be pushed by someone other than my brother. 

With a half summer salt, she splashed so much water that I gulped the thought of yelling “that’s so unfair” down my throat forcing me to rub my eyes like a novice swimmer . 

We snorkeled along the current, we watched fish. I would mistake her rainbow colored bikini at times with the reef corals. A quadrupled pleasurable experience of warm baby waves, underworld glowy corals, red sea fish and irrational impulses was created. 

‘More’ felt like a word never existed. 

I lost track of distance, I realized we drifted far. The swim back was challenging. It was against the current. “Would you like to grab my foot and I drag you back?” I offered. She didn’t want to look anything but tough and sprayed “no thank you” onto my face. 

Climbing back the jetty’s stairs;  “Huuf” with a relief, her lips sighed.

Shivveringly cold, I tried to maintain my cool. The jetty was shaky but my helpless self was shakier.  

She dried herself when she offered me her towel, “would you” pointing towards my cold pair of frightened like nipples “like?”

I paused, “what a sweet girl she is” I thought. The feeling of her wetness on the towel touching my body warmed me up quicker than a dry one. 

She started running back. I followed. “Why were you r-u-n-n-ing?” shiverringly I asked. 

With a smile wiping away my concentration level “it’s c-o-l-d” shiverringly she replied. 

Her name was Icke. Her eyes were blue. Diamond-like-out-of-their-shell teeth shined through a bronze face nested in between golden brown hair.

Her toes were long and so were her neatly polished fingers. 

Her natural out-of-the-water look stopped my heart; dispersed the clouds up above and gave way to a beautiful moment of sun and joy shine. 

She was funny, she was sweet.

She made ‘the here and now’ as alive as a bird’s tweet.  

Stealing a sexual look never crossed the crumble of my emotions; appreciating her natural beauty took over the whole thinking process adding days of sunshine into my heart.

Beauty, sweetness, tranquility and good day-feelings dominated my holiday. 

At night I would get a glimpse of her heading to dinner. 

She wore black.

She paced every step as if einstein-ingly calculated; her feet landing softly and subtly sound on the ground wouldn’t cause trouble to the camouflaged lizards; they roamed as if her presence was their protective companion. 

When she smiled. The sun snuck out of the clouds to get a glimpse of the beautiful lines on her cheek bones. When she spoke; the moon listened, the waves seized; my heart danced. 

She added happiness in the air; sea gulls flew above the sea surface to watch her instead of searching for fish; the wind slowed its gust down to a breeze, the mountains brightened in the horizon; a canvass of a beautiful woman on a beautiful day was painted in my world. 

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Words came out of her mouth like a twist of juicy cherries taking my mind to places of love.

She was Russian. Her English would sound more melodic than Sinatra’s ‘My way’. Her moves would confine to a halo of a bubble wrapped around her way of throne.

Her eyes glowed like Venus on a clear night sky.

Her smell of salty sea water mixed with a sun tan elevated my mind with a sincere feminine perspective. 

She was considerate. She was utterly sweet. She was happy. She was fun. She was tall. She made me smile.

Icke combined sweetness with around the clock smiles.  

I thought I met many women, but Icke, many women I realized I met not.

Published by dayenjoyer

video journalist

One thought on “Icke is a girl, the day I met her was a good day; so has everyday.

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