JOURNAL-001: “WAITING FOR MARCELLA”
MARCH 2007
My flight home was one day before Belinda’s. I don’t know what came over me, but I suddenly had the wildest urge. Eporner I was 27 years old. The patio was wrapped waste high in lattice work to keep prying eyes at bay. It was the big finale. None of our audience members spoke, but I somehow knew that they wanted to see it. Once we were safely away from prying eyes, she dropped her bag and busied herself spreading out our towels. Belinda giggled aloud. She glanced back downward at her stark tan lines and then looked up at me with her trademark devilish grin and mischievous eyes. I suppose that the college girls took notice because they eventually decided to move further down the beach. We moved our towels back out to the beach and she lay her tan wet body down beside me with a satisfied sigh.
