Postcard Motive No. 1

The birds were singing a lazy song this evening, irregularly completed by the squeaking rocking chair. A soft breeze was slowly moving the palm leafs framing the sight down the hill to the beach and a distant island.
He raised his glass and catches the sinking sun in it. The warm sunbeams turned the rum into liquid gold and made the ice cubes shine like diamonds, the mint leaf made a great contrast to it. After a long drag off the cigar he thought to himself: ´How poor must the richest man be, not being able to relax.´

A figure slowly walks up the small path to the house, silhouetted by the sinking sun.
“Do you have some Coke?”
“Yes, even though we´re not on Cuba.” The figure disappears in the house, coming back with a chair and a glass.
“So, how things stand?”
“We´re all going to die.”
“Yeah, chances are good for that. Heard any news about CERN?”
“No, they seem to be still stuck in the black-hole-discussion. Do you think they´ll find bosons?”
“It´s not very likely, but I like how you ignore the possibility of black holes.” He smiles and takes another drag off the cigar.
“I´m not ignoring the chances, I’m just saying it´s even more unlikely to create a black hole that won´t vanish after a microsecond then find bosons, so it´s irrelevant.” He takes a nip from his glass.

Then darkness comes and swallows everything.