Erik and Paul

On the ship going to Sumatra, Inge hung out with her good friend, Martha. She was happy to have someone to talk to and that Martha was there to listen. So much to say and so little time before the ship would arrive in Singapore (?).

“I’m leaving Paul behind, you know,” Inge plunged right in.

“Do you love him?” Martha asked.

“Yes, I do, as much as I love Erik, it’s just that life with him would be different, more predictable, and in town, tied down to his restaurant. With Erik, you never know. And now, I’m on my way to Sumatra to meet with Erik and become his wife.”

“I know what you mean. It’s sensible to marry the established one, but it’s thrilling to marry Mr. Bad Boy. and you don’t have to worry; Erik has inherited a fortune,” Martha smiled.

“It’s not the money. it’s him. He’s like a child, he’s my boy, and I love that. I want someone to look after, someone to take care of. It makes me happy,” Inge explained.

“Would the ladies care for a drink?” it came from a server in a white jacket with golden buttons.

“I’ll have a Manhattan, chilled, no cherry,” Inge said. Martha nodded, she would, too.

“Right away,” the server smiled and turned around.

“Ah, what a beautiful sunset, the sky is all clear tonight,” Martha sighed, “I can’t say how much I enjoy being here with you, Inge, and without our men – sometimes, I think we should just move in together!”

“Agree, and instead of having our own children, we could adopt them, – that would be lovely,” Inge laughed.

“But instead, we’re on our way to our men, out there in Asia somewhere, far away from what we know and cherish in our own small town of Odense,” Martha concluded.

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About elizabeth stokkebye

Grew up on Hans Christian Andersen’s fairytales. Spent childhood and youth in Denmark. MA in Scandinavian Languages and Literature from the University of Washington. Taught Reading and Composition at UC Berkeley. Write under the influence of human emotions.
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