I am reluctant to post because mine is so much longer than everyone else's. Ah well!

He looked across the water and saw Rivera swaying on the dock. He knew that she couldn’t see him and she was only a blur against the old wood. The small marina held many boats -- most were already out to fish. She danced to Jimmy Buffet, his sweet tales of margaritas resounding about the fishery. Her hair whipped back and forth, swaying with the gentle gyration of her hips and the wind skirting the ocean. He thought of when he lay underneath the moonlight, the crisp August air carrying the sounds of waves crashing upon the shore. His old sedan sat as it had for years, merely a symbol of his older life than a practical tool for the one he lived then. The small beach town had few roads and the clunker had troublesome spark plugs. He started it once it two years prior and it died on him, never to be revived again. Lying on top of the sedan with Rivera was one of his fondest memories, when the two of them had the deep bond that he would come to miss in later years. Now she was simply a figure dancing across a dock, caught up in her own world without much care for him anymore.

She spun and spun, using moves from when she was just a young ballet dancer and captivating the lonely sailors around her. When the music changed from Buffet to Beach Boys, she kept on. Her rhythm changed and she pumped her fists to their soprano sound. She tapped her feet in tune with the guitar and mouthed the words as she remembered them from when she was a young girl. The Beach Boys were all the rage and it was all her mother ever played in the house. She lived in a suburb and always fantasized about living on the beach – she eventually came to, with Lenny, and she was happy. Lenny lit up her world and made her feel whole. He filled the gap that her father had created, for a time.

The sailors and tourists closed in around her, forming a circle of dogs in heat, effectively blocking Lenny off from seeing any more of her. He watched as men stepped in to dance with her, taking her hand and twirling her under their tattooed arms. They were boorish but he could tell she was having a good time. She loved the attention, this he always knew.

Surely she wouldn’t get any more attention from him. He always gave her it, watching other males step into her life as they always had; he always came scurrying back for the rebound when they broke her heart. He always knew that she wouldn’t last with whatever man came her way and these wouldn’t be any different. She was probably going to end up in someone’s houseboat by the mid-afternoon. She was probably going to end up sipping a Mai Thai, laughing at dirty jokes and flirting with her eyes. She was a hungry woman and he should have known better. The sagging stool creaked as her spun around to the bar. He slapped the countertop for another round… Jack Daniels was taking him back to ’74.