Vin-de-Plage

[mishalak]

The waves roared onto the beach. It was one of those slightly cool days where the steady breeze carried the smell of salt off the restless sea and made beach grass dance upon the dunes. There was no one around except Michael and Tony, they'd carefully looked to make sure of that before going down to the shore.

"So what's this again?"

"Vin dee Plahjay. Beach wine," Tony said playfully. "A nice euphemism for cases of Port that come ashore from America in the dead of night. Sometimes they bury it here to avoid the tax agents. And so we're going to enjoy a little wine that grows upon the beach before their inland friends come to retrieve it."

"Fuckin' hell! You didn't say that we were robbing smugglers."

"Not robbing, just taking a little cut. You worry too much Michael."

Tony tossed aside the rolled up blanket he was carrying and went to a smooth patch of sand. He fell to his knees and started to dig. In a few moments he came up with a black bottle.

"So are you going to spread out that blanket? I've got the wine for our picnic."

"I'd rather have a nice safe pint in the pub," was his reply, but nonetheless he started spreading it out as Tony smoothed over the little patch of beach again.

Tony came over with two more bottles with a bit of fine sand. He started uncorking one with practiced ease then pulled out two metal cups from the pocket of his jacket. Pouring he said, "Now tell me if this isn't some of the best wine you've had."

It was very tasty, fruity and with a hint of sweetness. "It is excellent. I don't know if it is the best wine I've had, but I see why people still want it despite the trade war."

They lay together watching the sea and drinking their wine.

Comments

[filkerdave.livejournal.com]

Coool!

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

Thanks