The Last Wave by Laurel Kahaner

An Ocean View

Am I the only one that sees the ferocious wave about to crash into the window of the cocktail lounge?

Each wave larger, more menacing, breaking against the glass, shaking the Moonshadow lounge known for its ocean view.

A woman in long black gloves sips a martini. The white cigarette between black fingers draws me to her profile.

I see her lips making tiny, almost imperceptible circles.

I wonder if she is holding a cocktail onion inside her mouth without swallowing.

Even I can get distracted from imminent demise. I gaze into the last wave approaching through the black fingers of her frozen gestures.

She is my wife.


Story by:

Laurel Kahaner

submitted at 7:41am

13 September 2010

Laurel Kahaner’s web:

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