Bon Voyage, Phoenix!
As Phoenix should be enjoying some fun and sun, I thought we could take a bit of a vacation along with her.How about a bit of fiction?
Slowing down
First, she ever-so-slightly cracked one eyelid, then the other.
From behind the slatted blinds bright fingers of sunlight assaulted her bleary eyes. Resisting the urge to retreat with her pillow further beneath the covers, she sighed heavily and began mentally preparing herself for the day ahead.
By the time she clicked through ten or twelve things that absolutely and impertatively had to be done that day her feet had already hit the floor and propelled the rest of her onto her daily ablutions.
A glance at the clock revealed she was already half an hour late and the weight of endless responsibility and commitment came crashing down around her. Drawing a deep breath she closed her eyes tightly and envisioned that far off place in her head. Across the miles the rolling of the waves and the warmth of the sun and sand beckoned her to cast her worries aside, recharge her emptied reserves, and just be for a while.
The instant she opened her eyes she knew exactly what she had to do. Crossing the bedroom she snatched her appointment book from her clutch as she sat down before her laptop. A brief perusal of time past confirmed it had been more than six months since she had taken any time at all for herself. A few quick, but crucial emails and her calendar was suddenly cleared.
Taking a moment to bask in her initiative, the remainder of a plan formulated in her mind. Rifling through one of her drawers she found what she had almost forgotten she had: the skimpiest of skimpy string bikinis. Trying it on and checking herself from all sides in the mirror she dryly commented to herself: "Well, the upside of unremitting stress and an overbooked calendar is a few skipped meals here and there."
Satisfied, she located a beach coverup, her funky and fun bright pink "Hollywood" shades, her Hoochie Mama flip fops, sunscreen, a beach towel or two, and a stack of glamour magazines which had piled up on the entry hall table, then stuffed them all into a large straw tote. She tossed the whole thing onto the couch as she made her way to the kitchen in search of a picnic basket, thermos, and frozen margarita mix.
Much later in the day as she casually sipped her third cocktail and glanced over a Cosmo article on what drives men wild in bed, she checked her new tan and made a mental note to either buy a bigger thermos or a second one before drifting off again.
Sometime later she had the feeling someone was standing over her. With part of her still in dreamland she saw quite clearly a dark-haired man with handsomely chiseled features, broad chest, and well defined abs looking down on her with a smile.
"Miss Jane," she heard him say.
Opening one eye she was greeted by the earnest face of the neighbor's eight-year-old son and his little best buddy.
"Ummm, would you mind moving so Sammy and I can play in the sand box now?"
