I feel pruney, like I've been in the lake too long. The patio's getting a thin film of algae green on it and it smells kind of musty out there. Did somebody overpay the water bill?
July 30--Fort Jefferson, Dry Tortugas, Florida. "Construction on the fort began in 1846," the tour guide ranger said. "Looks like the decorator never made it," Kay said out of the corner of her mouth. "Shh," said Angie, "it's a fort, for crying out loud, not a condo." She shook her head and edged away from her sister. Her little sister. Her annoying little sister who had been a thorn in her side her whole life and who she was stuck sharing a cabin on the boat with again. Dad had been about to buy a newer and bigger boat so they didn't have to share but the economy tanked so he said they'd have to make do with the old one. Kay wanted to stay in Key West and strut up and down the beach in her bikini and flirt with boat bums every night in Mallory Square. Angie was glad to be out diving and snorkeling instead of broiling her brains on the beach. She didn't even much mind Dad's half-baked attempts to inject a bit of education into the days like today's trip to Fort Jefferson. Maybe she could shove Kay into a cell for an hour and get a bit of peace.
I'll say this for it, it came much easier than words have been coming lately. Stay dry.
--Barbara
No comments:
Post a Comment