I am lying on a white, sandy beach with the glowing sun beating down directly on my tanned summer body. I notice the beautiful, Puerto Rican Cabana boy heading over to replenish my newly empty Margarita glass. I look around my private beach and at the crystal clear, sparkling ocean water tempting me warmly in to its open arms. I get up from my bed on the sand, walking gradually to the water. The sand is flaming my bare feet with such passion that I speed my walk up almost into a jog. As I reach the waterfront I stop, as a falling wave is heading toward my glazing body; I step closer to be in its direct path. I move smoothly in with such grace; I prepare myself for the cool, refreshing bath. I hear an alarm bell screaming, I look around in a panic as it is hurting my ears and giving me a powerful headache. My beach is wandering away, and then it is gone. The ‘warmness my body feels is gone.
I open my eyes; I am gloomy, lifeless room. My alarm clock is going off and the sound can only be compared with exhausted your fingernails across a chalkboard.
A cold winter morning You On Here » A cold winter morning
