By Cynthia Frazier Buck
Rae looked at the vibrant orange umbrella in her drink. She held up the Mai Tai she was clutching a bit too tight in her hand. She focused on her drink. For a simple beverage, it was beautifully presented.
Everything here was magnificent. The feel of the grainy white sand between her toes. The clear blue sky. The cries of the seagulls as they hunted for food. The crashing sound of the waves. Rae was pleased with her choice of destination.
It was all still so fresh. She trusted and hoped that making peace with what she’d done would come in time. There were other less extreme avenues she could have taken. But at the time, it seemed like the only thing that made sense.
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