December 11 - The Strawberry Surfer
Harold Harmon's world was defined by two simple pleasures: surfing and strawberries. Born and raised in a coastal town, Harold had spent his entire life riding the waves and savoring the sweet, juicy goodness of ripe strawberries, which he cultivated in his garden, and which were abundant in-land from his seaside cottage. His friends knew him as the Strawberry Surfer, a nickname he had come to cherish. On most mornings, unless the weather was bad or his elderly mum needed help, which did more regularly these data, Harold would rise with the sun, don his by-now faded wetsuit, head to the beach, and paddle out to meet the ocean's swells. Riding the waves was his meditation, his therapy.
But it was strawberries that truly stirred Harold's soul, and added colour to his life and surroundings. He had a strawberry patch in his backyard, or rather, he had a small piece of backyard next to his strawberry patch. He'd spend hours tending to the delicate plants. His fingers, calloused from years of surfboard waxing, could still handle the fragile berries with fine-tuned gentleness. He’d pick the ripe berries one by one, savoring the sensation of their plumpness and the intoxicating scent that filled the air.
Harold was half-decent on a surfboard, but he was amazing in the kitchen dreaming up all kinds of dishes with strawberries, and perfecting classics. He could whip up the most delectable strawberry creations imaginable. His signature dish, Strawberry Symphony, was a masterpiece of flavors and textures. It featured fresh strawberries drizzled with honey, sprinkled with mint leaves, and served on a bed of homemade shortcake.
Harold would dream about strawberries too. One recurring dream had him riding a particularly exhilarating wave, and just before it crested, he spotted something unusual in the distance. A small, deserted island with a patch of wild strawberries glistening like rubies under the sun. As he paddled closer, he couldn't believe his luck. The island was a paradise of untamed strawberries, ripe for the picking. In his dream, Harold shared his discovery with the world. He invited the entire town to join him on the island for a day of surfing and strawberry feasting. The island became a sanctuary, a place where people could leave their worries behind and bask in the simple joys of life, or more specifically, surfing and strawberries. The strawberry surfer had found his paradise, where his two greatest loves merged into a harmonious blend of beauty and bliss.
He would then wake, always a bit disappointed that no matter the love and energy he poured into surfing and strawberries, the island of his dreams probably didn't exist, but happy that another day of surfing and eating strawberries lay ahead of him.
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DALL E 2 prompt: “A surfer surfing a sea of strawberries”
Chat GPT prompt: "Write an Edith Pearlman-like short story in 400 words about a man who's favourite things in the world is surfing and strawberries"