After our boat ride I jumped out of the boat and went to leave when he shouted.
“Can I have your phone number?” he asked.
“Yes” I said, my cheeks turned a pale red for the second time that day.
Then we exchanged numbers and he asked,
“Have you lived here long?”
It was like we already knew each other. He started to talk about how we used to go to junior school together but never spoke. He said he wished he had spoken to me and always wished to become friends but his family moved away to Spain taking him with them. Which explained his accent. However, now about 13 years later here we are again looking at each other because he wished to return to Greece. Our conversation was sweet but short and I was about to turn away but then remembered I still had to ask what his name was.
“What is your name?” I asked slightly meekly.
“Atlas,” he said in a deep husky tone.
“Whats your name?” he returned the question.
“Maria,” I said without hesitation.
As I started to walk home the wind blowing in my face and the loud but comforting sound of the waves smashing against the mossy wall. It sort of made me forget about all the troubles happening in my life.
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