She lay on the recliner chair at the sun deck with a small stringy piece of cloth to cover her modesty. The cloth left nothing for imagination as it resembled a small fig leaf. She was topless for the entire world to see. A pair of oval shades protected her eyes and probably, her identity.
Her tanned shapely body was drawing crowds to the beach shack. Voyeurs would laze around ordering beers and snacks, the shack owner would happily oblige with a grin on his pock marked face. Some would shoot her with their cameras on the sly and proudly show the images, back home. As the Sun set, the revellers would slowly depart and the owner would start stacking the recliner chairs to head back home.
Business had been good this summer.
He would buy a new home for his family.
I saw the same lady on a couple of occasions at the same beach shack and curiosity got the better of me. I decided to wait till the Sunset. I was eager to know her identity.
As the shack owner left for home, a lady, totally covered from head to toe in a dreary black orthodox dress emerged from the shack and joined him in his sojourn homewards.
The oval shades were still on her eyes.
She was the same mysterious lady. Nobody could otherwise recognise her. I waited, hence could identify her.
The owner rubbed soothing rose water on his wife's sunburnt body that night.
She never took her shades off,
She never wanted to.
She dreamt in the dark shades, The bright Sun gave her nightmares.
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