by Roger Noons
hierbas dulce con hielo
Ageing Hippie
‘You have been coming to the Balearic Islands for
many years, Señor Nunes?’ The policeman said at Passport Control.
‘Yes, I used to go to Ibiza for the sun, sea,
sand, sex and drugs.’
He frowned.
‘Now I only come to Mallorca for the
drugs.’
His expression darkened.
I added. ‘Ramipril, allopurinol, simvastatin and
warfarin.’
He looked totally confused as he handed back my
passport.
‘Gracias,’ I smiled.
Celebration
Once Soller Reina 11 was tied up in it’s usual
position on the Moll, Don Miguel supervised the sorting of the catch, its
washing and boxing and Joan pushed the two-wheeled cart to Alberto’s. After the
hotels and restaurants had taken their pick, wives and daughters gathered for
the auction. Llampuga 6.90, Salmonetta 3.60; Soller’s prawns, twenty euros
per kilo.
When one box remained unsold, the Don fastened it
to Joan’s Mobylette .
At nine o’ clock, white wine uncorked, sitting
opposite each other, their eyes gleamed as they enjoyed the juicy sweetness from
the ocean.
Plates and glasses emptied, man and wife cling on
squeaky springs. Perhaps Marta will conceive the daughter she
craves.
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