Author's Note: Short. Sweet. Spoiler-iffic. If you don't want spoilers--and I mean VERY RECENT spoilers--then don't read it. If you don't mind, then read on!
Nights Like This
The man sat on his perch, watching the sunset and drinking a martini with delicate hands. Behind him, his violin lay gleaming in the ever-dimming light, casting sparks of color from its pristine strings.
He sighed and looked around, murmuring into the wind about how happy he was--how satisfied, and how perfect the evening was shaping up to be. He rested the martini glass, now empty, gingerly and cautiously beside him and twisted to pick up his violin.
As he played, the ocean seemed to relax, and a thousand images floated in the sky above; each song brought a new idea or story to mind, and he wove musical tales of battles and lost loves until well after the stars had all shown their faces.
Finally the night got to him, and his eyes began to feel heavy with sleep. He unbuttoned the suit jacket he wore and took off his tie, then began to climb precariously down from the seat he had inhabited for the past few hours.
When he had returned safely to solid ground, he patted the seat, as it were, and felt it shudder beneath his hand. "Thanks for the lovely evening, Laboon," he said jovially. "You're the best." And he kissed the whale and walked away, laughing "yohoho" all the while.
-end-
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