6 men stand on the side of a cliff. Below their feet and both to the left and right there are nothing but endless miles and miles of ocean. The water radiates anything but comfort and calm, as it prepares for the storm that is inevitably coming their way.
Waves hit the rocks below as if trying to demolish and eat away at the calcar as the water turns a cold, dark blue color. Nevertheless, in the horizon everything is calm and simple. One singular strip of color, a light, almost white, line of clear blue water can be seen.
The first man, who is a priest, looks into the horizon and nods his head. 'God has given us a miracle, hasn't he?' he speaks, his voice deep and soothing. The second man nods in approval, responding with a simple 'Indeed he has.'
The third man, takes out a piece of trash from his pocket and throws it into the ocean without hesitation, a smirk appearing on his face. 'Not a miracle anymore, huh?', he laughs, facing the priest. The forth man joins him in a fit of laughter, the valley filling up with the rage and disgust that the first two men were gathering up inside.
The fifth man, who had been quiet and had isolated himself from the group, finally speaks, without ever making eye contact, but instead choosing to look down at the base of the cliff:
'I used to be very caught up in my work. I'd leave early in the morning and until the late hours of the night I'd be at the office, surrounded by paperwork. I never paid any attention to my family because I was always so focused on my job. One day I turned around to answer a phone call as my son played in our front yard, but when I turned back after getting off of the phone he was gone. No one ever understood how it felt, but today, gentlemen, you too will feel that guilt, crawling and seeping through your skin. Because while you were arguing, the sixth man died.'
And indeed he had. At the bottom of the cliffs, swallowed whole by the ocean's waves, was the lifeless body of the sixth man.
Even the horizon was dark now.
Foto: Monica Seiceanu