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The echoed thought bobs to the surface of my consciousness I try to reach for it, to

Shit

I crack ray aboveOr…I am

A swarm of sound fills my ears An ocean sound I turnas I look down htly in the has my sunburned back

Fuck I’m—I’m still on that little island The one ent to for the snorkeling excursion Why’s it dark?

I try to s as I look around, but my mouth’s dry Like…really dry I sit up in the hahttiht on the flat, black ocean It glints off the waves as they roll to the shore

I step off the haht be sick My heel co cold and hard There’s a bottle of tequila, empty and half buried in the sand My eyes throb I rub them with a sweaty hand

“Fuck me, cowboy Fuck me!”

We fucked in the hatails I’m on the backside of the island—just a little crumb of sand we came to with the cruise’s Sunday afternoon catarabbed a bottle of tequila froh the sand mounds at the center of the island Sneaked back to the east shore, where these huts are My gaze moves over the one she blew s with straw roofs, kinda scattered through the palm trees

Shit I’ve gotta get back to the island’s other side, fast I’ Maybe they did so after

I must have passed out hard if Perky Tits leftresponsible Girl like that wouldn’t let them leave without me

I ignore themy flip-flops out of the sand and slide my sunburned feet into them, then start toward the island’s middle One deep scratch onback toward the beach Too dark for that shit But I’ve gotta move fast

I s against my dry throat as I squint out at the water What ti phone? I whirl back toward the huts, patting my pockets

I left it on that boat The catas and—

“Oh, fuck”

The ht down froht”

Maybe shit is different in the Cayht? Still, I start to jog over the hard plane of da surf behind me as I make like the Road Runner