The three of us are walking down the steep path to the beach.
M. is going first, carrying a huge yellow paddle, a bucket and a fishnet.
D. is walking behind him, carrying the two dilettante harpunes they had crafted earlier this morning in the courtyard.
I’m walking behind D.
„Alpha woman out of duty“, I think.
We’re almost at the cove, when M. slips on the loose gravel and lands on his butt.
„Did you hurt yourself?“, I hear D. asking.
„Only my pride“, M. murmurs and gets up quickly.
After swimming naked in the private cove, I let my bare skin dry in the morning sun and watch M. and D. executing a mass murder.
M. teaches D. how to pierce one of the zillion ugly sea urchins lurking under the stones in the shallow water with his harpune.
Then they put them into the fishnet.
Then they let them dry in the sun.
An undefined heap of black spiky dying balls.
A sea urchin genocide.
I hate that.
And I love that.
Two men hunting and killing.
Me watching, naked.
An archaic joy.
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