Mosquitoes and Adventists

What are you doing?  Truly?  Skipping out on the rich person’s golf because you can, driving the rented blue minivan around as you wait for the time to pass before attending this reception and dinner that you’d rather run miles from.  Sometimes the fly on the wall role can be fun, but not when things are expected of you and the foolery becomes fakery.

The sound of the waves is nice, as are the colours blue.  I want to know the next best thing to do.  

The “jealous housewife” embarrassment of last night amidst the Celine Dion lyrics was classic, as was the screams and manic nature of the loving Clarke boys.  Hard to see the Alobar idea in that context, but one does not know.

The mosquitoes at the park earlier were vicious, and inspired the thought that maybe the leaving of 91 acres in her memory was partly in jest.  The young kids roaming around this strange camp.  Where  do they come from?  Where are they going?

I must go change in their communal bathroom and head off.  Soon it will be over and the open road in front of you will be open.  Where will the thoughts lie?  On Tancook, where they are now?  You need to make a list and figure out what the circumstances may be where that does not make sense in conjunction with the writerly plan, in which the condo goes for sale next year...  can an island princess be enticed there for a time, even for a year would make it worth it.  

It may be the time and place.  Go see if it is.