Our gracious host, Rochelle, is asking us to get
creative in 100 words or less using the photo
seen below. Welcome to Friday Fictioneers.
This is where the prompt took me.
Tag: Vacation
RDP Sunday: snowflake
Today at RDP, drkottaway asks us to get
creative with the word ‘snowflake’. Thanks, Doc!
Here’s where the prompt word took me.
Alpine Nights
Written for Sadje’s What Do You See #307.
Here’s where the two photo prompts took me.
Shattered Reality
This is The Unicorn Challenge
where we are encouraged to write
a story in 250 words or less using
the photo below as inspiration.
The Last Violin
Written for Sue & Gerry’s Weekly Prompts
Weekend Challenge (important) and for
Gerry & Sue’s Weekly Prompts Wednesday
Challenge (fragile). This is my response,
originally written in 2017, my 1st year blogging.
Punta Cana
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where
we are urged to get creative in 250 words or less.
The photo below is our inspiration; this is my story.
Summer Fling
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #404
using the word “tarnish”. In 55 words, this is my flash.
Crop Invaders: A Haibun
Written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge and
Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge where the
required words are “wrong” and “hoarding”. This is my haibun.
The exact year escapes me but it was a long time ago, to be sure. It was the summer we returned from vacation to find our tomatoes had ripened into gorgeous red orbs ready for eating. I could practically smell that grassy-green, spicy-sweet summery aroma. But something seemed wrong, off somehow. I felt like I was not alone in my garden, like I was being watched. Taking a closer look, I discovered disturbingly large caterpillars feasting on our lovely harvest. The bloated green creatures blended in so well with the underside of the leaves, it took a few seconds to register why our crop was full of gaping holes. Probing, boring, ravaging, gorging, hoarding. No tomato was salvaged that summer. Not one. That was the year I stopped planting tomatoes.
garden interlopers
devastation
signaling summer’s end
NAR©2024
This is “End of Summer” featuring Katie Melua and L.U.C. from The Peasants soundtrack
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
A Get-Away
Written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge (‘madness’)
and Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge (‘magic’).
This is my response to those challenges.
It had been quite a long while since Rob and I had a chance to take a vacation, to escape the madness of the city to someplace remote and peaceful. Skiing sounded like a good idea, a break after the unbearably hot summer. All we wanted was a little get-away to relax and unwind.
Our Google search brought us to a place called Marmot Basin located in Jasper, an alpine town in Canada’s Alberta province. The photos were breathtaking; the area was one of the most natural and unsoiled landscapes we’d ever seen. The site said Jasper was “an authentic mountain community that managed to retain a cozy, warm and ‘real’ atmosphere with a laid-back vibe”. It was also one of North America’s largest protected nature preserves. It would be great to get lost for a few days, forget about our hectic lives.
The flight to Jasper was interminable; eight hours with a connection in Denver. The time change did a number on us physically but our welcoming and romantic chateau more than made up for the tedious travel. It was rustic yet charming with beamed ceilings, comfy furniture and a huge fireplace. We spent our first night snuggled up in bed.
Right after breakfast the next morning we set out for a day of skiing. Hoping to find a secluded trail, we consulted one of the guides who gave us a couple of suggestions. We headed out, delighted to see a pristine layer of powdery snow. Looking around we realized we were the only people in the area and there was nothing in sight except evergreens on the hillside.
We started off slowly then gradually picked up speed; the conditions were perfect. About twenty minutes into our run we came upon a split in the trail. Taking a break, Rob leaned against a tree and consulted a map, deciding which way we should go. Suddenly we felt movement beneath our feet and the ground gave way in what sounded like a whispering waterfall. In an instant we were tumbling down, enveloped by cascades of snow.
It seemed like an eternity before I came to a stop. I was unable to move but realized I was still clutching my pole. Somehow I managed to wrangle my arm free from under my body and began whacking the snow above me. I didn’t know if I was under three feet of snow or thirty; I had to try to free myself. Snow kept falling on me as I hacked away. Slowly my grave became brighter and I realized a magic sliver of sunlight was peeking through. I heaved myself into an upright position and broke through the snow.
It was a struggle but I managed to climb out and started yelling for Rob. All I heard was my echo; everything was deathly silent. I found my phone in the inside pocket of my ski suit and dialed Rob’s number hoping to hear his phone ring; I heard nothing. Checking my phone I saw there was no cell service in the area; I couldn’t even call for help. Gingerly I walked around a bit, all too aware the ground could give way at any moment. My only hope was to try to find help.
I must have walked for miles; the sun had set and I found myself surrounded by trees. I had no idea where I was. Exhausted, I fell to my knees, sobbing. If Rob was still buried in the snow there was no chance of finding him alive.
Through my tears I thought I saw a glimmer of light. I squinted and could barely make out the shape of a cabin in the woods. Was it real or magic? Was I hallucinating? I had to keep moving or I would surely die during the frigid night. Slowly I got to my feet and walked toward the light, praying it was not an illusion. I was so very tired; if only I could close my eyes just take a little rest before I continued. It was so bitterly cold.
NAR © 2024
This is “Snowblind” by Styx
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
You Can Stop Looking For Me Now
That’s right! I’m taking a long-overdue break and will be totally off line for one week. Take care, all. See you in a week!
This is “Vacation” by Connie Francis.
Feeling The Burn
Written for Friday Fictioneers where we are
encouraged to get creative by writing a story
of no more than 100 words using this photo
as our inspiration. Here is my 100 word story.
It was the summer of ’59 and I was going to spend July and August with my cousins at the shore. I’d been packing since my last day of school, finishing two days before taking off.
The following morning I awoke with fever, sore throat, bumpy tongue and a facial rash. Scarlet fever, the doctor said. The disease was highly contagious. I was prescribed antibiotics and my parents were warned to keep me home.
My summer plans were abruptly cancelled; I was dejected. All I could do was watch my friends playing, my nose pressed up against the window screen.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is “Fever” by Little Willie John
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Getting Kookie On The Beach
Written for Six Sentence Story where Denise
encourages us to get creative in just six sentences
incorporating the word “engagement”. Here’s my six.
The idea of my parents chaperoning me to the beach that night was mortifying but I figured I had to suck it up if there was a ghost of a chance of having any fun during this vacation in Surf City, so that night my mother, father and I went for a stroll on the beach, me hanging back about ten feet or so hoping the cool bonfire kids would think I was by myself; music was playing and marshmallows were roasting on long sticks …. everyone was tan and blonde and beautiful …. and that’s when I saw him …. he looked just like Edd ‘Kookie’ Byrnes from ’77 Sunset Strip’ and when he glanced up as we walked by and smiled, I fell hopelessly in love.
Thankfully, my parents quietly observed the group without their usual compulsion to make conversation and, satisfied what they saw wasn’t a remake of “Reefer Madness”, sat for a while high on a dune delighting in the reflection of the moon on the water; when it was time to go, the three of us walked back to the beach house …. but not before I had a chance to look over my shoulder and give Edd a little wave; he grinned and waved back (I was in heaven) and I knew I had to go to the next bonfire – alone.
I guess being out in the sun all day must have fried my parent’s brains because, when I nonchalantly asked them the next night if I could walk down to the bonfire by myself for a little while, they actually agreed; all I could think about was seeing Edd again and how relieved I felt that my older sister considered herself “too mature for a teeny-bopper beach party” and didn’t want to tag along.
The group was friendly and waved me over so, as casually as possible, I headed straight for Edd and sat down next to him and someone handed me a cold beer …. my first ever .… which I liked quite a bit; the kids were into Jan and Dean and The Beach Boys …. I was a Beatles girl but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way …. and by the end of the night, Edd and I were holding hands and agreed to meet again the following night.
That was the most blissful week of my young life …. lots of kissing and petting …. professions of love …. an “engagement ring” fashioned from a Bud Lite pull tab …. but we didn’t go beyond 2nd base; in all my 16 years, I’d never been as happy or excited to be with someone as I was with Edd.
At the end of the week we exchanged phone numbers and promised to call each other but that didn’t happened and it’s ok …. I never really thought it would …. I’m content with the memory; one thing I’m sure of is none of my friends will ever be able to say they spent a week making out on the beach with Edd ‘Kookie’ Byrnes.
NAR©2024
This is a really awful song called “Like, I Love You” by Edd ‘Kookie’ Byrnes and Joanie Sommers.
Here’s the theme song for the TV show, “77 Sunset Strip”.
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Pennies From Heaven
Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers has
challenged us with this photo prompt.
Here is my 100-word response.
Sunny Hill Farm. The name alone made me smile.
We never went on vacation when I was a kid; that was for “rich people”.
You can imagine my unbearable glee when it was decided in the summer of ’59 that we would leave The Bronx for five glorious days in a place called Sunny Hill Farm.
Looking at the brochure we declared it to be “perfect” with lush rolling hills, horses, swimming, picnics, barbecues, fresh air and sunshine everywhere.
We loaded up the car, singing all the way to our vacation nirvana …. where it poured and poured for days.
NAR©2024
100 Words
This is “Pennies From Heaven” by Billie Holiday
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
SEPTEMBER HEATWAVE
“Scorching weather we’re experiencing, Maureen. Unheard-of for September. You and Jamie might want to consider postponing your holiday for a while. As you know, your Aunt Camilla detests air conditioning and those wretched noisy fans; I fear you will be terribly uncomfortable here. We’re off to Spain in October and staying through Christmas and the New Year, a long-overdue visit with our darling Penelope and son-in-law Alejandro. Aunt Camilla says she’s dying to see Cherbourg again and has her heart set on February. I think perhaps April would be a more suitable time for you to visit, Maureen dear. Springtime here is brilliant, as you undoubtedly recall. Do let us know your decision. Hope New York is treating you well. Love to Jamie and Josie. –Uncle George”
I stared at my uncle’s email in dismay. It had been eight years since I left England for New York. Jamie and I met at work; we fell in love and were married the following year. Neither of our families were able to attend our wedding. Jamie’s family is from Scotland so we decided to kill two birds with one stone by spending our honeymoon in Wales. We set aside two weeks to visit Jamie’s family in Perth, my parents in Newcastle Upon Tyne as well as my aunt, uncle and cousin Penelope in Kent.
Now I was looking forward to a return trip, an end of summer vacation and Uncle George was going on about an oppressive September heatwave. Having to postpone our vacation until April was dreadfully disappointing.
We had just booked our flight that morning and made reservations at some of the many attractions in the area. Our plans included a visit to Canterbury Cathedral, Port Lympne Animal Reserve, Chiselhurst Caves and Hever Castle with its incredible labyrinthine gardens. I could just picture our five-year-old daughter Josie running through the vast field of mazes, giggling at every dead end.
I knew Aunt Camilla and Uncle George would be happy to watch Josie for a few hours, giving me and Jamie a chance to go on a tour of Shepherd Neame Brewery. Their menu of ales and lagers was extensive, each one brewed to perfection. I must admit after years in New York I preferred my beer served ice cold in a frosty mug – not at the traditional ‘English cellar temperature’. I never did care for the taste of a tepid brew and finding a crisp cold beer could prove challenging. However, with so many brews to choose from at Shepherd Neame, I was willing to bet that wouldn’t be a problem.
When I told Jamie about my uncle’s email, he reminded me that we had 24 hours to cancel our flight and reservations without incurring a penalty. The first thing we needed to do was check with the airline, then we could look into our other plans. Lady Luck was definitely on our side; we were able to reschedule our flight and all our activities without any problems. In fact, our new agenda was going to be even better than originally planned.
Hever Castle had recently opened an area called “Adventure Playground” where kids ruled the castle. Josie could discover and explore Tudor Towers with its 2 metre high willow structure, a giant sandpit and grassy mounds with hidden tunnels. There were secret dungeons, moats and turrets plus climbing frames, swings and slides. Josie would never want to leave!
Perhaps that image was the seed that started sprouting in my brain!
I began entertaining serious thoughts about moving back to England permanently; the list of positives far outweighed the negatives. I had no family tying me to The States. My parents chose to retire in Tuscany so visiting them from the UK would be an easy jaunt and Josie would finally get to spend time with her grandparents. Jamie, I knew, would love the idea of being close to his family, not to mention the fact that his firm had a branch office in London. When Josie was eligible to start first grade at age six there would be no shortage of good schools to choose from. Looking over my list, I could see no viable reason for us to remain in New York.
When I brought up the subject with Jamie, he was enthusiastic about the prospect of returning to the UK. It would be an experience of a lifetime for Josie, not to mention an exceedingly happy surprise for our families when they learned we’d be moving back home.
Now that the decision was made, we were more excited than ever! I smiled when I realized this all came about because of an unseasonal September heatwave. Who knew all our grousing about the oppressive heat would have such a happy ending! The most difficult part would be keeping our plans a secret from the family. The next morning I responded to Uncle George’s email:
“Wonderful news, Uncle George! We had no trouble at all changing our travel plans to April. After months and months of FaceTiming, Josie can’t wait to finally meet you and Aunt Camilla in person, not to mention her grandparents! Jamie and I are so looking forward to being with family again; we’ve missed you all terribly. I’ve saved the best for last but only a hint for now: we have a big surprise planned which I’ll share with you in good time. Are you curious? Do try to have patience, dear Uncle George! Stay cool and give our love to Aunt Camilla and Penelope. Till next time ~ Maureen.”
NAR © 2023
I hope you’ll stop by
The Rhythm Section
today for some hot tunes
on Birthday Thursdays!
https://rhythmsection.blog/
SIGHING SIGHS
Story challenge by my friends at NopeNotPam – Letter of the day: S
SALVATION!! Can you say it along with me, brothers and sisters?
SALVATION AND SATISFACTION!!
Since venturing out on our long-anticipated vacation, I have discovered so much more than the sultry sun, the salty sea, the scrumptious seafood and the sinfully sleek and sensual satin sheets.
I have found salvation from stress, suffering, stiffness, strain, stenosis, sciatica and sleeplessness. And contrary to what our dear Sir Mick sings while strutting sexily on stage in all his sartorial splendor, “I CAN GET SOME SATISFACTION!”
“How?” you inquire suspiciously? Well, at the risk of sounding like a super-store salesperson, it’s all due to the soothing stress-relieving qualities of the Sidney Slider Power Recliner.
Seriously. I shit you not.
Since we arrived at our secluded, solitary and secret get-away location, I made a startling discovery: I am living a pain-free life for the first time in several years! Yes, I’m de-stressed simply being on sabbatical but I know without a scintilla of doubt my pains have subsided significantly because of this sensational sprawling supersonic seat at our seaside suite. Keep your sardonic comments to yourself; as a self-proclaimed scholar of recliners and a reclining specialist, I know what I’m talking about and speak nothing but the truth, so help me Stickley Furniture World.
How can something so simple as this recliner make me feel like a new woman, a renewed and improved supple design of the feminine species? I have no idea! Someone seriously smarter than me designed a lounger with superb supine capabilities. All I know is something shocking happened, something so spectacular that I am singing its praises while simultaneously shedding tears of shear joy. I am in seventh heaven – so much so that I have placed an order for my very own Sidney Slider Power Recliner (since I cannot bring this one back with me). Sadly, it’s not in stock at the moment BUT in less than two very short weeks it will be on its way to my home. Stupendous!
This is no small thing and I mean that literally. Sidney (we’re already on a first name basis) is a big boy, significantly larger than what I’m accustomed to. I shall have to find a way to make him fit but make no mistake – this scintillatingly smooth suede stunner will fit! The only question I struggled with was which color I should select – the sensual sable or the shimmering sand?
I’ll have to wait just a scant few days after my return but it will all be worth it. If you could only see the sheepish smile of satisfaction on my face.
“Ah, Sidney! How sweet it is” she sighed.
NAR © 2022
IT’S ABOUT TIME!
After four long years of difficult times, including two heartbreaking family deaths, a couple of surgeries, a multitude of hellacious aches and pains, the loss of a few family pets and – oh yeah – a pandemic, we are finally going on vacation!
V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N in the Summertime!
I know, cry me a river, right! This has not been a happy time for any of us; however, you know that saying “I feel your pain!”? Well, we sorta do but your pain is your pain and my pain is my pain so let’s not get all prickly about this.
Oh, it hasn’t been all bad: during that time we welcomed a new granddaughter. I have no right to brag; after all, I didn’t make her – God did – and what a work of art she is. She can truly take the worst day and turn it into Christmas!
So, in the blink of an eye my mister and I will be heading out of town to relax, recoup, refresh and recharge. Oh, it’s nothing extravagant; just a little time by the sea (which sea, I am not saying!)
But being a creature of habit, I shall pop in from time to time; I need to see what’s going on, to check in with YOU and to write, of course.
Hasta la vista, baby! You won’t even know I’m gone!
NAR © 2022
SWEPT AWAY
The afternoon was damp and raw, sleet stinging my eyes. I huddled deeper into my parka, pulling the hood tighter over my head. As I waited at the busy Brooklyn intersection for the ‘walk’ signal, I caught a fleeting glimpse of a woman in the distance. It was just a brief sighting but she bore an uncanny resemblance to my late fiancé Maggie.
The woman’s clothes were nondescript – dark jeans, a silver puffer jacket and a knit scarf – but it was her black and silver sneakers and the all-too-familiar shock of flaming red hair blowing wildly in the wind that gave me pause. She ran up the front steps of a condo – the same apartment we shared for three years before Maggie died.
My mind raced back to the day of Maggie’s death. We were vacationing by Lake Michigan with our friends Jeff and Rachel. Looking for a bit of adventure we decided to go jet skiing, something new for all of us and rather dangerous considering the lake’s infamous rip tides, caves and groottoes. Feeling overly confident, we took off like the daredevils we were. We all fell off several times, laughing, but kept on going. It was an exhilarating experience.
Maggie was a gorgeous creature. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she rode the waves, her exquisite breasts barely contained in a tiny white bikini while crimson tresses whipped around her face like the tail of a dragon. She and Jeff were natural athletes and it was difficult for me and Rachel to keep up.
Rounding a bend in the lake, we were thrown off our skis by a large wave. I lost my bearings in the current and when my head finally emerged from the water, I spotted my jet ski and swam to it. Rachel wasn’t too far away, clinging to her craft, but Maggie and Jeff were nowhere in sight. Mounting our water bikes we began our search, frantically calling out their names as we scoured the area. Unable to locate them, we headed for shore and alerted the authorities. Maggie and Jeff’s jet skis were found but there was no trace of them. After two days the search was called off. Rachel and I had no choice but to accept they had been swept away.
After the accident I returned to New York but didn’t have the heart to stay in the condo where Maggie and I lived. I drove to our beach house in Amagansett, leaving the apartment untouched; I hoped one day to return when I summoned the courage.
Now I found myself back in Brooklyn staring at my old condo and seeing ghosts.
An overwhelming force drew me closer. Slowly I entered the building and climbed the stairs to my apartment. Approaching the door I could hear faint music, laughter and the sound of familiar voices. A man and a woman were inside, unaware of my presence. I stood outside the door for what seemed a lifetime. My heart pounding, I raised my fist to knock on the door, then stepped back. Resolutely and silently I walked away.
NAR © 2021
Reposted for Sadje’s picture prompt on What do you see #164 December 12, 2022
THAT SUMMER’S DAY
The first summer vacation we had with our two small boys was a week at the Ocean Surf in Montauk NY – the perfect family place with a large swimming pool overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. A few rickety wooden steps led to the beach and the pool was right outside the rooms so the kids were always within sight.
Everyone was very friendly except for one Scandinavian-looking family. Their little boy played with the other kids but he would frequently glance over at his parents – loners who drank vodka by day and argued by night.
The week was fabulous and we returned the following summer. The Ocean Surf had not changed and many of the same people were there, even the Scandinavian family but this time the father was absent and the mother looked haggard.
One day the mother emerged from her room carrying a colorful inflatable raft. She told her son she was going for a float in the ocean and to stay with the other kids by the pool. We said we’d keep an eye on the boy and she murmured her thanks.
As the children played the boy would occasionally look toward the ocean where his mother floated, plainly visible in her raft. Some time later the boy jumped up yelling “Hvor er mamma?! Where’s my mom?!” She had disappeared. The boy became frantic and ran toward the beach. Families followed, scouring the ocean with binoculars. Life guards, police and the Coast Guard searched until dark when the quest was postponed until morning. Jeff and Nina Morgan, the hotel owners, consoled the boy and watched him overnight.
At dawn the search began again and the vibrant raft was found washed ashore. Boaters were questioned and a helicopter surveyed the ocean with no luck. The mission was halted. When the police talked to the boy he tearfully explained that his dad was gone and his mom was very sad. We all had the same thought: suicide.
The boy told the police his name and address; a phone call resolved unanswered questions. The father abused his wife and son. Several months ago the father beat the boy terribly. To save her son the mother bashed the father over the head with a fireplace poker, killing him. A quick verdict of innocent was delivered and all charges were dropped. The boy said his mother longed for the healing waters of Montauk. Family court discovered the boy had no living relatives and granted custody to the Morgans.
That was a dreadful experience for everyone yet most of us returned the next summer, I think in part to check on the boy. We were delighted to see he was physically thriving under the loving care of the Morgans but the psychological scars were still there. He played with the other kids but would often wander down to the water’s edge and stare off into the distance.
Over the next couple of years we returned to the Ocean Surf. We learned the boy’s name was Tobias but the Morgans called him Toby. He adjusted well to his new life although he still walked to the ocean every day to watch the sunrise.
Eventually our one small room at the Ocean Surf became too cramped for the four of us and we began staying at a larger place. Our sons are married now with kids of their own. The Morgans finally retired, Toby got married and he and his wife manage the hotel. Yet he still heeds the call to sit on the beach every morning and watch the sunrise over the ocean.
NAR © 2020
BLINDED BY THE LIGHT
With vacation just one week away, Lauren was excited about buying a new bathing suit. Over the past year she had been diligent about diet and exercise and lost 65 pounds. She was proud of herself and eager to show off her great new figure.
At the mall she passed a few swimwear shops until one caught her eye. There was no loud music or glaring, off-putting lights; rather the atmosphere was quiet and relaxing. Feeling comfortable, she went in.
“Welcome” said the saleswoman. “May I help you or would you care to just browse?”
Lauren explained her recent weight loss and asked for a few suggestions.
Impressed with Lauren’s recent accomplishment, the saleswoman said she needed an eye-catching suit that would leave everyone speechless. Darting between display racks, she returned with three suits for her to try on – a blue and white polka dot bikini, a strapless jungle print bandeau and a simple one-piece with matching tunic set.
Lauren entered the softly-lit dressing room. Stepping into the one-piece, her breath caught when she saw her reflection. The suit fit her perfectly, modestly showing off her curves, while the subdued shades of purple and turquoise shimmered slightly. The purple cotton tunic provided just the right amount of coverage. “I look amazing!” she whispered.
Lauren bought the set and as a first-time patron received a coupon for 15% off her next purchase.
During the week she was busy packing. On Friday morning an Uber picked her up for her flight to Mexico.
In her hotel room Lauren put on her bathing suit, cover-up and stepped out into the pool area. She found a free lounge chair and swept the tunic over her head. Suddenly she heard loud gasps, laughing and lewd whistling. Looking down she was appalled to see her beautiful new suit had turned totally transparent in the bright sunlight!
Grabbing her tunic, she covered herself, humiliated. Immediately hotel security arrived and escorted her inside.
“I don’t know where you come from, señorita, but here in Méjico we have laws!” barked the hotel manager. “I must insist you leave this hotel at once.”
Back in her hotel room Lauren suddenly noticed the tiny label inside her bathing suit – “THE REVOLUTIONARY ‘DARE TO BE YOU’ COLOR-VANISHING SUIT!”
Bags packed, she tossed the scandalous suit into the trash thinking ruefully to herself, “caveat emptor”.
NAR © 2018
FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
‘It is raining again’ Rachel thought woefully as she looked out the window of the Manhattan apartment she shared with her boyfriend Jeff. ‘And the weather forecast is for rain all week and into the holiday weekend!’ She and Jeff talked about getting away for a few days, maybe to Washington DC or to Boston but the weather all along the east coast looked bad. Labor Day weekend was just a few days away and it would be great to escape this incessant rain.
“It is raining like crazy!” exclaimed Jeff as he entered the apartment. “I’m soaked, hon. Toss me a towel, would ya? We’ve been talking about getting away for Labor Day. Why don’t you check the computer for vacation spots while I get changed? I’ll be back in a sec.”
“It is raining everywhere” whined Rachel as Jeff returned to the living room. “I thought about going to The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame or Disney World but they’re having rain, too.” All evening they checked out various places, with no luck. They were about to give up when Jeff shouted “Whoa, babe! Look what I found on Expedia .. two round trip tickets to Cabo San Lucas for $296 per person and only $200 for the hotel! AND NO RAIN IN SIGHT!! Let’s go for it!” Rachel threw her arms around Jeff’s neck shrieking “Cabo! Swimming! Mojitos! SUNSHINE! HELL YEAH!!”
“It is raining, babe. Can you hear it? For the first time in ten days I don’t give a damn because tomorrow we’ll be in sunny Méjico! I’m so stoked we made those reservations the other night.” Jeff yawned while Rachel snuggled up against him. “I thought I was dreaming”, she replied sleepily. “Cabo, here we come!” and they drifted off to sleep. When they woke the next morning, the rain had stopped but it was cloudy and the sky was gray. The Uber picked them up at 8:00 for their 10:00 flight. The closer they got to the airport, the lighter the skies became and by the time they were seated in the plane, the sun was trying to break through the clouds. They arrived in Cabo just in time for cocktails and dinner, watching the glorious sunset from the hotel’s veranda. Very early the next morning Jeff was awakened by Rachel’s crying. “Honey, what’s the matter?” he asked.
“IT IS RAINING!!” she sobbed.
NAR © 2018
The Elephant's Trunk 