The Offshore Pirate es un cuento de F. S. Fitzgerald, de Flappers and Philosophers. Esta historia
representa la extraordinaria capacidad de Fitzgerald de crear algo bueno
en pocas páginas…
This unlikely story begins on a sea that was a blue dream, as colorful
as blue-silk stockings, and beneath a sky as blue as the irises of children's
eyes. From the western half of the sky the sun was shying little golden disks at the sea—if you gazed intently enough
you could see them skip from wave tip to wave tip until they joined a broad
collar of golden coin that was collecting half a mile out and would eventually
be a dazzling sunset. About
half-way between the Florida shore and the golden collar a white steam-yacht, very young and graceful,
was riding at anchor and under a blue-and-white awning aft a yellow-haired girl reclined in a wicker settee reading The Revolt of the Angels, by Anatole France.
She was about nineteen, slender
and supple, with a spoiled alluring mouth and quick gray eyes
full of a radiant curiosity. Her feet, stockingless, and adorned rather than
clad in blue-satin slippers which swung nonchalantly
from her toes, were perched on the arm of a settee adjoining the one she
occupied. And as she read she intermittently regaled herself by a faint application to her tongue of a
half-lemon that she held in her hand. The other half, sucked dry, lay on the
deck at her feet and rocked very gently to and fro at the almost imperceptible
motion of the tide.