Monte Carlo nights (Three)

Gentle waters lapped up delicately. A southern wind whistled rhythmically as it swirled restlessly in the air. The small boat was getting bigger, more visible as it drew closer to the sleeping harbour. It's journey one of hardship and resilience. 

The hour was late, very late. A patterned blanket of tiny stars shone from up high. Their beauty like the most rare of conflict diamonds. 

Two dark silhouettes in the intimate vessel breathed fatigued breaths as they approached their destination. Words had not passed their lips for the last hundred yards. Contemplating their own private thoughts. The wind began to whistle that bit louder. A dark thoughtful man looked at his younger brother and nodded.

The sibling inspected his brothers weathered face as tiny droplets of rain began to touch the heads of the men. As though they were being baptised into the new place that they would soon call home.

The rowing stopped as both clambered out stepping into cold, translucent shallow water. They began to move quickly, cautiously as though not to be seen. Two strong muscular physiques now on  the shore. They looked around as they ran, nobody was in sight. Nobody had seen them.

Taking one last drag on his cigarette he tossed it to the floor. Doing so simultaneously as he observed the two men. Silently watching them from his discreet vantage point. In the concealing shadows of the harbour he stood.  

He had seen them arriving in on the shores of Monte Carlo.

Demola, TCC