SCOTT BOURNE E D E U Q I N O R H LA C page 90) (traduction
Ancient Criminals Out before me the Aqua-blue-green eye of the Mediterranean Sea as she stares out from the Earth and up into the cosmos, while I stare out over her from a friend’s house along the Tunis coast. The water is gentle and flat as sparrows dip down across it sailing on a soft breeze. Caroline is in the kitchen making lunch after a short walk through town to gather fresh vegetables where we had watched the trains pass and the young boys riding in between the cars like ancient criminals. They hang from the bodies of these steel beasts as they race along their tracks headed from one city to the next. Caroline having never placed a coin on the tracks was excited when I placed two single 100 Denar coins on the rail. She was like a child as we waited for the next train and after it passed, eagerly ran in search of the results, then smiles largely as she holds them up in the sunlight. One shall be a necklace for her, the other will be sent to my good friend Brent Hobby back in North Carolina, a memory from our youth, a message from our past! At the edge of the garden there is a wall of about 12 feet in height that falls directly to the Sea below. On the lawn there is a rusted old wrought iron gate that surrounds a set of steps that lead down to the Sea like a Metro entrance. They descend into a tiny room with a sand floor and a gated door. From there the Mediterranean itself looks locked behind a prison gate. Earlier today I had watched as Caroline made her way down them, disrobed and flirted with the ocean and me as I shot pictures of the two of them. Once again I find myself in the imperceptible clutches of a dream. As I sit and write she has sprawled out naked in the sunshine. In the distance mountains rise up and clouds dot the tiny ocean with shadows as they gently drift over. When she calls me to come eat, I put down my pen and go to join her.
May, 17th, 2010 S.H.Bourne