NO. 1: MOMOA MAMA

New Fiction: a story in 3 parts

(image c/o uhdmaxdotnet)

A storm was expected and the ocean was already churning. I had been walking along the shore for a while, leaving behind the blankets, frisbees, and guys hawking ice cream cones crowding the beach. All my senses were engaged by my surroundings: the sight of the sea foam bubbling on the shore, the roar of the surf, the smell and taste of the salt sea air, and the feel of scratchy hot sand underfoot. A wide-brimmed hat and Italian movie star sunglasses protected me from the beating sun. 

Walking toward me was Aquaman star, Jason Momoa.

OK, it wasn’t really him, but a guy who looked just like him, a gorgeous man with perfect hair, a beautifully sculpted six-pack, and photoshopped pecs (except, wait, this was reality!) I mean, just wow. With him was a little girl, maybe three or four years old, tight dark curls above a lovely little face. Dripping wet, they must have just emerged from those pounding waves.

As we came abreast, the little girl side-eyed me a few times. I realized she was going to say something to me. What could it be?

“Mama,” she goes, “Is that you?”

Time stopped as I played through several alternate realities, the primary one of which involved me saying: “Yes, my darling, yes, I am your mama, and this man, this aquatic man, is your daddy, my husband!”

And then Jason, Ariel and I would dive under those insane stormy waves and swim away to our underwater palace.

Alas, no.

Jason Momoa laughed and said, “Sweetie, that’s not your mama.”

Then he called to me over his shoulder (because none of us had ever stopped moving and this was already almost over): “Sorry about that!”

Oh, no, Jason. Please, do not apologize.

(NO. 2 coming in two days.)

Filiz Turhan is a writer and community college English professor, living on the North Shore of Long Island. Her work has appeared in The Sonora Review, The Threepenny Review, The North American Review, Litbreak.com, and elsewhere. She likes cats.