Last night I took my weekly trip to the tropics. Yes, that's right, once a week I find myself basking in the warm glow of sunlight with the smell of coconut and suntan lotion in the air. I lay back and feel the rays of the sun touching my body and listen to the waves crash onto the shore. I listen to the steel drum band play a beat that leaves all my cares behind. I am warm and I am relaxed and I am happy to have left the the world I just arrived from. This time I take home a souvenier that will remind me of my trip...a sunburn on my chest and nose. I am satisfied. Just enough to be content, just enough sun to get my fill.
Times up.
Back to reality.
The sun fades away, the music is still, the only scent left in the air is a mixture of salt and something vaguely familiar...something that smells more like burnt toast than coconuts. Time to pile on the layers of clothing and face the cold air. I think to myself how I wish I had a little more time to spend there. Sad to say goodbye, knowing I can't stay. I begin my departure and glance in the mirror. I can still see the freckles on my nose...Yes, another pina colada would be great right now...
You'll know where to find me.
3 comments:
I've been thinking about getting a little tan on my ghost white bod.
Hey saw your link to Henry Earl. That poor guy... I've met him several times outside different Lex. watering holes... That man is crazy.
I've heard he's a real treat but have never had the fortune (or mis-fortune) to run into him. I just love to laugh at the many faces of Henry Earl.
sand is overrated. It's just tiny, little rocks.
~Joel
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