As I laid on my sandy towel, I tried to contemplate on what
I should do for the next several hours. A combination of the salty sea air with
the smell of cheap suntan lotion suffocated my nose. All these individuals sun
tanning in this basket of heat reminded me of chicken and pork being roasted.
Grilled to perfection, as some would call it. These scorched individuals either
continued baking in the sweltering sun or laid motionless under their
umbrellas. I can hear them laugh and chatter about life, money, the weather,
etc. Aside from their mindless conversations, I can also hear the tide
splashing in and out on the delicate sand. The tide was creeping up on me like
a stray cat stalking its next meal in some back alley. As soon as the ice-cold
tide touched the tip of my toes, I shifted backwards, as I would assume that
this would be a common reaction from anyone coming into contact with frigid
water.
None the less, my mind started to thrift away again like
algae floating within the ocean. However, this particular beach did not have
that. The water was clear-through and cold to the touch, as if one was about to
swim in a frozen lake. I could feel the soft sand crumble through my fingers as
I try to pick up a handful of it. The more I try to grab hold of it, the more
it tends to disappear through the cracks on my hand. This sand was technically
my mind in that my train of focus tended to weaken as I tried to think of what
I should do next. One possibly was that I could swim for the fourth time, but
the taste of the sea water was too much to bear since it had the flavor of gym
socks and vinegar. (Do not ask me why I know that). On the other hand, I could
just suntan and be as unproductive as these other chickens being cooked next to
me. Either way, I was going to relax and bath in the moment. Welcome to St.
Thomas.
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