BLACK PEARLS AND POPPIES
by Michael C. Neitzel
Copyright 2013 Michael C. Neitzel
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Beware of the bright lights of the cities,
for far too often does their brilliant shine
obscure much more than it reveals...
The sky above was dark, stars as clear as diamonds seemed suspended in nothing. It was almost eleven o'clock. There were only a few lights blinking in the village, and no lights were visible from any fishing boat out in the bay. The two soldiers had stretched out on the grass under a big breadfruit tree, and had gone asleep. The short man was still sitting in the Jeep, smoking another Gauloise. Once in a while the end of his cigarette glowed in the dark, and his partner could smell the strong aroma of the black French tobacco. The taller one got out of the vehicle, and walked towards the narrow beach. He looked out to sea once more. Nothing. He sat down on the old trunk of a palm tree which had washed up from the water and waited. After a while he walked back to where the two dim shapes of the sleeping soldiers were lying on the ground: