It was his habit, whether the night before was silent and solitary, or a festive evening of wine, women, and song — in this case, the latter. He padded through to a glass door he slid aside to take in the sea breeze and breaking dawn.
Through the sedge grass of the dunes Stoddard trod down to the deserted beach. The gentle surf lapped at his toes as he gazed at the horizon. A tangerine sun peeked through a smear of clouds amber, scarlet, and mauve. The redolent tang of brine and driftwood rode the breeze along with cries of unseen gulls.
Into the breakers Stoddard strode, relishing the bath-like temperatures. Soon the swells were up to his midriff and he stopped to scan the horizon again. The colours had thinned to gold, peach, and lavender, reminiscent of the rainbow sherbet of Barone Biskin.
To his left, Stoddard suddenly heard a disturbance in the water.
Not far, the surface rippled and burbled with dozens of fish skipping through the tide, schooling in his direction. Following the restless fish were two dorsal fins flanking each other.
It only took a second for Stoddard to recognise the undulating fins as bottlenose dolphins chasing their breakfast.
The school of fish swam directly through him, tickling his sides as he raised his arms overhead. The two dolphins raced past him on each side as he spun around to watch the hunt carry on down the shoreline.
Stoddard took a deep breath and made his way ashore with a slight smile.
¿Una amable bendición de Santa Petronila y Neptuno, tal vez?
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