Unusually flirtatious, she kept coming closer and closer to the spot on the edge of a deserted beach where I was sitting cross-legged and smiling at the Indian Ocean. It was late afternoon. Flattered though I was, I did not look at her, but I could see her rather well out of the corner of my eye. The wind was picking up. Prancing in the waves, she displayed her splendid body with increasing abandon. The spray and sand felt soothing on my skin. At length, she walked right up to me, put her hands on her hips, and produced a puzzled smile: how could I possibly resist her indubitable charms? The rumble of the waves penetrated deep into my stomach. Realizing that I was staring through her, she looked down and walked away languidly. The sun was hovering above the horizon. She returned a while later, but by then I ceased paying any attention to her. Most of the time I kept my eyes shut tight because of the spray and sand picked up by the wind that grew in ferocity as the sun touched the ocean. A thin layer of wet sand covered my skin. The roar of the ocean enveloped me. For a long while I was one with the wind, the sand, the ocean, the departing sun. And I was altogether and blissfully alive.