Robert Chalmers

Nov 8, 20172 min

The opening paragraphs to the New Romance

Content-Type: text/html;
 

 
charset=utf-8

The tide was going out. There was that faint smell =
 

 
of seaweed and dead fish in the air. Sand had blown onto the porch in =
 

 
the night and was gritty beneath Emily’s thin house shoes. The old man =
 

 
on the promenade seemed to have forgotten to continue to walk =
 

 
forward.

The horizon was invisible. Emily squinted to try to see =
 

 
through the glare and penetrate the haze. It was an otherwise =
 

 
bright morning but for some reason there was this sea mist so light that =
 

 
it really was just a haze. It hid everything except the grey shapes of =
 

 
the giant container ships that seemed to steal ghost like across the =
 

 
indistinct horizon. Imperious. Silent. Mysterious. =46rom the shoreline =
 

 
in front of her guesthouse the haze seemed to thicken as the distance =
 

 
increased until all the eye could see was the pale blue sky far above =
 

 
where you knew the horizon should actually be. There was a slight chill =
 

 
in the air and Emily shivered slightly.

She turned back toward the French doors. Jack was =
 

 
still picking up glass shards from the floor, the result of the door =
 

 
slamming in the wind last night.

It looked as though at least half of the small =
 

 
squares had shattered. Emily looked at the damage and shook her head. =
 

 
One more expense. Glass repairs were not cheap these days but of course =
 

 
had to be done.

Jack had turned up at the reception desk a few days =
 

 
previously. She had one tiny room left right at the top of the building, =
 

 
built by her late father as a loft conversion. More of a large cupboard =
 

 
space she often thought, and the easiest access was via the fire escape =
 

 
attached to the building. Jack had taken the room enthusiastically =
 

 
declaring it perfect for his needs.

He wasn’t on holidays she could see that, but nor =
 

 
was he a business type. He had a quality carryall bag and his clothes =
 

 
were clean and he looked, well=E2=80=A6 well kept. A little older than =
 

 
Emily herself she would have guessed, somewhere in his thirties. =
 

 
She had looked for an accent but there was nothing she could pin down. A =
 

 
trace of somewhere though, but she couldn’t catch where. One of those =
 

 
International accents.


 


 

Robert Chalmers
 
http://robert-chalmers.uk
 
author@robert-chalmers.uk
 
@R_A_Chalmers


 
=

    20
    0