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After my first divorce, I was feeling dissapointed; mostly because she was getting greedy on our common heritage. I did not mind loosing my car, my house or any other material object. My brother felt sorry for mysef and let me stay in his place in Punta Hermosa for a while. It was an old house placed in a tiny surf town located 40 kilometers south from Lima. Despite the town`s basic infraestructure, it had pretty cool places to hang out and have fun during the summer. I was getting used to it. It wasn´t hard at all I would start my day with a cold beer on my way to the beach, and greeting the locals who were quite friendly. The complete absence of traffic jams, or dress codes, or almost any unpleasent city habits, was giviing me a great feeling, or at least that was what I thought back then. On my regular ocean splash, I saw a gorgeous woman walking around the shore in a dared bikini, hesitating how to swim through those big waves pounding against the sand in front of her. She looked so fit, with beatifull curly hair resting over her tiny muscular shoulders and breasts; like a tanned summer goddess reaping all the looks of the beach. A few minutes before, I was on the same shore, but I had already swam through the furious barrels, so I was only watching her pretend to be a delicate mermaid trying to recover her water skills while she gave back a look in my direction. -Could I be that lucky?- Her beauty was hard to match among all the mortals in the beach, so she seemed to enjoy being the best view. A few meters north, a retired playboy in Tommy Bahamas surf boards was floating with a couple of old surfers while chating about the stock market. The water was shining under the sun creating a bling bling effect. Even now, my eyes are still not used to it, so I kept watching towards the shore, so I could see the motivated goddess dive her way through a huge set like a white shark in search of a pray. The surfers left chasing the same set of huge waves the mermaid just coped. She did not look so young after all that water washing up her make up. The shiny curly hair had straightened running water towards her back, but still was a monument worth viewing. The play senior recognised that behaviour and said: hi!, while she waved back with a smile just to watch him swim away to his sail boat floating a few fathoms beyond, where his wife was preparing a tough bloody mary to calm his man´s libido. That day I wasn´t the sharks prey, so I survived to tell.