Sprawled out on the sand I slithered my arm out to the side to feel for my Sunglasses. There was cloud, then there was sun, cloud sun, cloud sun!  And then all of a sudden there was just Sun. The morning had been quite uncomfortable. Up and down like a yoyo, putting my tee-shirt on and  taking it off again.  It wasn’t such as warm day as had been predicted and this part of Tenerife always seemed like a wind trap. I persevered tho’. Anything had to be better than walking the same boulevard for the 18th time in 5 days.  Anything had to be better than walking around, looking at the same shops, Everybody  seemed  so happy- enjoying the repetitive monotony of eating at the same eateries, drinking in the same watering holes. Good for them. I was Bored silly!

Only 10 years earlier, I had married a man 15 years my senior. At that time,  25 and 40 was good- girls are more mature than men, and 40 is the new 30, so everything okay in that department.- Blah blah, blah…

My hand found my Sunglasses, half covered with windblown sand. Turning on my side and shaking the glasses rapidly,. The now warm cucumber slices which protected the sensitiveness of my eyelids, swapped place with the Sunglasses and miraculously became mini breadcrumb titbits for the crabs.  Squinting, I opened my eyes, elegantly placing the said sun-glasses on my nose.  I could feel the grit. Sun cream and gritmix. I would recommend it as the best exfoliator in the world.

Craning my neck to the right, I caught sight of my fella. Wow, and what a lot of man! His bright orange knee length shorts crumpled around the crease of his bum. His thighs were pasty, his calves, once well formed were like elongated balloons.  He rolled over on to his back, stretching the Sun lounger to breaking point. So much so, that it let out a pale blue whine, expelling any tension from the heaving weight.  I smiled at my man. His belly smiled back. It was a good job I had my Sunglasses on. There would be no looking into the thoughts of my soul, today.

I got up. Announced that I was of to find the nearest toilet. The beach was stroodled with a thousand and one very juicy morsels of tantalising temptation. They all had names, I was sure, but could only be distinguished by the colour of the shorts and bikini’s they wore, and the colour of their hair.  I wanted them – All of them. – and all at the same time!