A man and his wife walked along the lake shore on a nearly calm, cool evening.
“Look at that,” said the husband, “that rich bastard.” He pointed out toward a sailboat gliding over the smooth lake like a swan. “Do you know what a boat like that costs?”
“No,” said his wife. “Is it a lot?”
“More than what an honest man can earn, I’ll tell you.” He shook his head sadly, and one arm flapped uselessly against his thigh.
His wife took his arm and looked again at the boat, noticing how beautiful the scene was, the mirrored water, the sinking sun silhouetting the graceful boat, its filling sail and the curve of its jib. A thin wake rippled behind it, making the water look like furls of purple and silver, blue and white. Behind it, narrow streaks of clouds glowed pink. “Oh my,” she said. “It’s-”
“What?” said her husband.
“Beautiful, simply beautiful.”
Out on the lake, the captain checked the trim of his sails, smiled a little at the slight curl of his sails and felt the smooth glide of his hull. He wished for a few more knots of breeze, but it was not to be. He looked toward the shore and took in the soft curve of the beach like a reclining woman’s hip and slender legs. “Oh,” he whispered, “if only Mary were here. If only Mary-” but it also was not to be. He looked again at the deepening shadows behind the beach and saw the couple strolling in leisurely peace along the beautiful strand.
“Lucky bastard,” he murmured.
Who wins?