Today’s challenge for bloggers set is imagine you are on the beach and you find a bottle with a message in it….
So here goes:
Eyes closed and enjoying the feel of sun on my skin, my heavily factor 50 protected skin of course. So long since I’ve felt it. A British winter that went on way too long. Grey. Way too much grey. And wet. So I feel like I deserve it, this week of indulgence doing so little.
I remember being in my teens and covering myself in coconut oil as all my peers did. I can almost hear the sound of sizzling skin. What were we thinking? Now a tan is a kind of guilty pleasure. I know I shouldn’t but this soaking the sun’s rays up feels so good. And a tan under a white top. Little can beat that.
So there I sit at the water’s edge, the water lapping at my feet, eyes closed, just being, oblivious really to all around me. It’s just me and the sun and the lapping water.
Then an object bangs against my leg… Once.. Twice. I reluctantly open my eyes. A bottle washed in by the tiny waves. Small, bluish, new looking. Not sure what it’s been a bottle of. I reach out and spot inside a piece of rolled up paper. I suddenly see myself as the heroine of the piece in a story of rescue. Opening the bottle I fish out the paper, full of expectation. When it’s lying flat I laugh.
“Fancy lunch yet?” It says in my partner’s oh so recognisable script. I turn round and he’s laughing at me, knowing all too well where my imaginings will probably have taken me.
I put aside fantasies of intrigue, obstacles overcome, derring do rescue and becoming an item at the end of a news programme in the human interest slot and head off for a sandwich.
Next time perhaps….