Leaving Fotis - story and artworks by @mariandavp

I stand at the end of the pier. It’s windy. The sun is falling and the weather is getting colder. Two weeks ago I was standing at the exact same spot at the exact same time but the sun was burning my shoulders. Now I’m trying to cover them up. I flirt with the beauty behind me; white and blue, stone and concrete, hilly and flat, perfect and imperfect at the same time, how could I ever get bored of you?

My cell phone vibrates. It’s Fotis. He’s not going to leave today. He changed his ticket for Tuesday. Oh well. What difference does it make if we don’t travel together; we didn’t meet during the weekend anyway. We both preferred to stay alone with our island, these few last days of the summer we didn’t want to share her with anyone. We only exchanged a few messages during our wanderings. Frankly, they weren’t really long. We just went back and forth on the same beach. I wonder how we haven’t crossed each other! Probably because I like to run while he likes to walk.

We all have our vices. I like to run in the summer heat while the wind dries up my sweaty forehead. I love chasing after rapidly changing images. As if I go fast enough I will get to see more. After all, all things run. All things come and go, and I run as fast as I can to catch a farewell kiss to the beach before it disappears. Everyone falls in love with someone during the summer. I fall in love again and again with the same beach. I long for the white sand dunes as they magically dissolve and become again with every breeze, I envy their smooth curves, Norma Jean has never been that beautiful! I touch the sand lilies to steal a bit of their perfume, their night flower flavor that make those those sixty euro I paid for my favorite Salvatore Ferragamo perfume seem like a total waste.

The miles are being exhausted and the blue sky is blue only in its appearance, not in coolness. My head is burning. I’m here! I quickly take off my sports shoes; I throw my clothes and BLUP! I dive into the frozen water. The water is always cold around here. It takes courage to go in, but think about it as if go into an anti-aging capsule. Those who swim in these waters, remain the same forever.

I see John further away wrapping himself up with a blue-white sarong. His hair are blond and ageless, eternally young he is, I know that the moment I come out of the water and he sees me in my grandiose swimsuit, he’s going to make fun of me. Why the hell are you wearing this thing dear, you are not in Mykonos! This is a nudist beach, he’ll say. This is a beach for nudists AS WELL, I will stress out.

Under Dimitra’s few umbrellas, I’ll notice Aris reading while his daughters are doing acrobatics on the sand. They‘ve really grown up, they are almost women now. Their father on the other hand is exactly the same. Few seconds after I lie down, he will come around to philosophize, to discuss about the book he is writing (still), nag about the sad state our country is in, despair about the love that doesn’t save us after all, and right before we get depressed he’ll go back to his sun-bed and continue his reading.

I’m still in the water. But where is Fotis? Maybe it’s too early for him. He shows up later in the day and stays until the sunset. And what a sunset we have here.

Oh! There he is. With his turquoise swimsuit and his beige t-shirt, he’s properly camouflaged. Despite his low profile personality, he is a well known media figure so in his vacation he likes to go unnoticed, become one with the surroundings. His hair is all messed up. It’s noon already but it seems he just woke up. He plunges one foot after the other deep into the sand, I wonder how he hasn’t lost a sandal yet. If I didn’t know how much he loves being here, I would say he forces himself to come to the beach. He looks around without looking. The sun is too bright for him. He can’t see anyone. He spreads his towel down, he spreads himself as well. It will take him half an hour to overcome the shock of being in paradise. I let him be. I come out of the water without bothering him. I sit on my towel and wait for the scene to evolve. Why are you wearing a swimsuit, look at my book cover and so on.

After a while Fotis wakes up. He walks slowly into the sea and I go in after him. We hug each other in the water. It’s officially summer. We share the news of a year in just a few minutes, we don’t have to say everything, the details we’ll save for later, over drinks at our favorite bar. Is Takis playing music tonight? No, I think Konstantinos is. But Takis said… well, whatever. Whoever. It doesn’t matter; they both know how to choose a soundtrack for our August nights. And trust me we are made out of many August nights; countless conversations over annual passers but admittedly great loves, hundreds of fine dawns, and thousands of half empty corona bottles stuck into the sand beside us. No need to describe more… Everyone knows what it means to return every year to the same place.

I’m here! I quickly take off my sports shoes; I throw away my clothes and BLUP! I dive into the frozen water. I look around. Nobody’s here anymore. John’s umbrella is tied up, Aris left the previous week, and Fotis…. who knows where Fotis is. Even Dimitra, who has to be there to look after her rent out umbrellas, is missing. No one here to chat with.

I pack my stuff. I arrive at the port. I hug my parents goodbye. I’m getting old and I still haven’t weaned completely. In few weeks I will see them again, but we’re saying goodbye as if I’m 18 years old leaving for studies to another continent. I don’t have time to pass by my cousin’s café. I only saw her once this year, but I’m really late. Blame the beach, it’s her fault, she consumed me.

I stand at the end of the pier. The ship arrives. My cell phone vibrates. It’s Fotis. He says he will be waving his hand to my ship as it leaves.

“And I will be searching for you in the horizon and composing my next text; Leaving Fotis. Am I or am I not the ultimate drama queen?”

_ Note: original handcrafted paintings acrylic on canvas by @mariandavp. Place of reference, Naxos Island, Plaka beach._