For Christmas, we Sultry Scribes (my writers’ group from Down Under) gave each other a Secret Santa gift. We then proceeded to spend ten minutes writing about it. I was given a lovely, large handbag. We had champagne. So….
I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky.
The world is blue, and Blue Hawaiai-e-e
Opening my eyes, I gazed fondly out at my view of the blue, blue ocean from my decadent, sunken bathtub. Then reached for the champagne bottle. “Yes, dear ocean,” I sang, sloshing yet another glass of Bollinger into my fine crystal flute. Whoops. “I will explore your lovely depths soon, soon, my dear, but this lovely bath is my first love.” Giggling again, I carefully placed my glass on the rim of the tub.
My eyes had rested on the bar of white soap next to my glass. I picked it up, lifted it to my nose, and inhaled. Heaven. “Heaven is a bar of soap,” I mused aloud. Why had that never occurred to me before?
Noticing my new designer luggage that I’d flung onto the king-sized bed, a short distance away in the luxurious bedroom, I called, “You’re my third best love, my lovely luggage!” Then I sank beneath the bubbles.
“Who the hell are you?”
Coughing and choking on the water I’d hurriedly inhaled, I sat up, knocked my champers into the bath with the tidal wave I’d created, clasped my arm to my chest, and looked up at a very handsome, dark haired man. His blue eyes blazed with fury.
“Get out – Now!”