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Evidently I was looking at her a little too closely, because she walked toward me across the sand. "I could sure use one of those beers you're trying...to hide, if you have one to spare," she said with a smile. I grinned back at her. "I thought I was being discreet, but obviously I was mistaken," I replied as I reached into the cooler. "I thought my can cozy would camouflage what I'm drinking, but I guess it didn't." "It was doing okay, but I can spot a Bud from a hundred paces. It's a hot day. Showers can be real fun . . .’ * October 8th The little tangerine colored Triumph roadster bounced down the interstate, the top down, Sara Wood’s light red hair streaming out over the trunk of the little car. Ed MacCarley held the steering wheel in his left hand and Sara’s hand in his right. She would sit quietly for long stretches, looking out at cows in fenced pastures or at an airplane flying overhead. Then she would turn her eyes to Ed. ‘Thanks, Eddie.’ ‘For what, Darlin’?’ ‘For all this,’. A parting of the brush showed a trail toward a gnarled oak, and along that trail he led her. She followed, to numb to resist. In the shade of the oak he stopped her, and turned her to face him. His hands slid around her waist and embraced her softly. As if of their own volition, her arms crept from her side and enfolded him, her forehead pressed against his chest. As the embrace loosened, she moved her body away, yet her forehead remained where it was, looking through the gap between their. Just a little though, I wasn’t that narcissistic!Over by the piano was a floor stand and, on the stand, was my guitar. No time like the present!Taking the guitar, I grabbed a beer and wandered up to the flybridge. As I drank my beer, I practiced the chords I learned from a ‘You can learn guitar and wow friends & family’ book. It was peaceful up there; the lights of the Bali resort and the other yachts were pretty and a slight offshore breeze kept the bugs away, the discordant sound of a wrong.
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