Dolphins at Sunset
By Wes Snowden
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About this ebook
Climb aboard the luxurious Windjammer sailing ship, Star Galaxy, with Rhonda Taylor as she breaks away from her life of despair in search of the unknown destiny that awaits her in the enchanting Greek Islands. It's a voyage of discovery for the young woman. A voyage that will ultimately force her to choose between the three unexpected options the capricious tides of fate have thrown her way.
Will Rhonda make the right choice? The one that will turn her world upside down forever or will she give in and surrender to the safety of the familiar? This finely crafted romance with it's warm and satisfying conclusion is a genuine page turner for readers of all genres.
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Dolphins at Sunset - Wes Snowden
DOLPHINS AT SUNSET
Isat alone in the empty staff lunchroom, intently hunched over my book. With only five minutes left in my afternoon coffee break, I didn’t want to waste a precious moment. I had a lot of catching up to do.
I was forced to leave Laurel Run High school before my graduation for financial reasons, so now I was slowly and methodically working my way through a selection of literary classics. It was heavy going. I guess you could call a desperate attempt to broaden my horizons beyond the crippling boundaries of this soul-destroying small-town life I lived.
I shoved some empty coffee cups and overflowing ashtrays aside to make room on the badly stained tabletop for my books. I had a volume of famous quotations opened to a page where I highlighted an unfamiliar word with a yellow marker and a question mark. Using the battered Oxford dictionary, I finally found the definition.
REQUIEM - A mass or song in memory of the souls of the dead.
I nodded slowly, I guess I’ve reached the point of no return. If I can’t change my life soon, my soul will probably be dead too. They can start warming up a requiem for me anytime.
I turned the next page and underlined a famous quotation by Henry David Thoreau. I thought the words were the saddest thing I had ever read.
Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
.
I thought, how cruel it would be to reach the end of my life with a song still in me.
Weary from trying to read books that required a dictionary for every other word, I picked up the latest copy of the World Traveller magazine and started to leaf through the pages. As usual, because I had never traveled, I was mesmerized by the exotic locales featured in the full-color pages.
I held my breath when I reached a four-page spread on the enchanting Greek Islands. Every page highlighted a different Island, but they all had one thing in common. In each picture, two dolphins soar gracefully out of an azure sea in a gentle rainbow arc before plunging back into the depths of the Mediterranean.
My favorite photograph was the last one of the four. It showed two dolphins flying from the water’s surface in tandem against a glorious full-color sunset. It was entitled ‘Dolphins at Sunset.’
After carefully making sure no one was watching, I tore the photograph from the magazine, folded it carefully, and placed it in my purse. The picture moved something inside me. I pledged to myself, Someday before I die, I’ll find some way to see Dolphins at sunset for myself.
Reluctantly, I slowly got up, closed my books, and headed back to work. My boss, Donna Lee, the manager of the ‘Shears to Share Salon,’ didn't take kindly to empty work-stations, especially when customers were waiting. I checked my watch. Just three hours to go until the time of day arrived that I hated the most——-—when my safe refuge at work closed and I had to go home.
NICE OF YOU TO SHOW up, Rhonda.
Sorry, Donna. I was studying and lost track of time...
I was interrupted when the door to the salon opened slowly, and my last customer of the day entered. He walked haltingly, leaning for support on the aluminum walker that was his constant companion. A portable miniature oxygen tank strapped tightly to his sunken chest.
Old Bert Medley was a retired coal miner. Like many of his breed, he was suffering greatly from the devastating effects of black lung disease, the result of many years of labor in the poorly ventilated pits.
I greeted the old man with a cheerful hug before helping him into the chair. What will it be today, Bert?
Bert coughed deeply. A rasping wet disturbing sound. Just make me look young again, Rhonda.
It was his standard line, but we both laughed anyway, and I got to work. With Bert's thinning hair, I could easily finish up in less than five minutes, but I knew Bert never thought he got his money's worth unless he was in the chair for at least a half-hour or more.
I didn't mind because old Bert was a great old story-teller. He always had a tale or two about his days in the mines. It helped to fill in the time for both of us. Bert’s story today was one of his old favorites. The raging coal fires burning deep below many coal towns. According to Bert, most people were unaware that the fires continued to rage below their feet.
You know, Rhonda, most folks don't realize how bad these underground coal fires can be. Lots of them are still burning all over the States. We had one right here in Laurel Run that started back in 1915 and didn't get put out until 1973.
Bert paused to catch his breath before continuing, "But the really big underground fire is just down the road in Centralia. It’s been burning for forty-seven years right