The frothy ocean reminded Linda of all the cheap beer she consumed in college at all those Pi Lams after-hour parties and how much FUN she had “Dancing With Myself” oh oh oh oh!
She wanted to END IT ALL but then she looked down at her beautifully painted toe nails and realized THERE’S ALWAYS HOPE and “TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY!”
All of those years living land-locked and buried in trees came to this – the edge of her past – and a lot of sea, running away.
The camera around her neck snapped pictures as she walked, though she was unaware of this until she uploaded them to her computer.
As the tell-tale wave of froth spread over the ground, Darla once again realized she put too much detergent in the wash machine.
Her ten hour long bender woke her with a roaring headache mere hours after the night already forgotten, and with nothing else to do at six a.m. Laura slipped out onto the beach for a little hair of the dog at sunrise.
Feeling water pull sand, grain by grain, below her childish soles, inspired her to become a geologist a decade later.
I thought the ocean was supposed to be blue like the color of my toe nails!
The Fukushima fallout syndrome starts by turning your toenails blue, and ends by turning them a vibrant red; oddly, there were no adverse health effects.
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