Out with the coconut oil. My skin prickles under their scrutiny while I rub the fragrant white lotion into my legs. The song on the radio cuts off. The announcer's voice purrs and here comes the song again: Time to turn, so you don't burn. Screwing the plastic top onto the glass jar, I follow instructions. My breasts press into the towel, which accommodates the shape like memory foam without the automatic ease-back. The sun on my back makes me dream of a time when I'll make new friends of those boys above. In fact, I'm too hot. With the swift motion of a young cat, I rise and run into the water in my Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. Click below to hear the song.
A blast from the past in the form of a jingle reminder to help you tan all over: Time to turn, so you don't burn. Once something like this gets into your head, the tune stays in your mind and plays over and over. It takes me back to the age of seventeen. I'm lying on the beach at Glenelg, South Australia. We've just moved from Victoria to stay with my Uncle Peter and look after his two young children after their mother left. Back then, families cared for each other. The new area excites me with its promenade along the beach, tramline between Adelaide and the coast, long jetty and excited people enjoying the seaside. Our family home is built several blocks back from the beach—a short walk to paradise because now boys watch me from the lifesaving building at the edge of the sand. Out with the coconut oil. My skin prickles under their scrutiny while I rub the fragrant white lotion into my legs. The song on the radio cuts off. The announcer's voice purrs and here comes the song again: Time to turn, so you don't burn. Screwing the plastic top onto the glass jar, I follow instructions. My breasts press into the towel, which accommodates the shape like memory foam without the automatic ease-back. The sun on my back makes me dream of a time when I'll make new friends of those boys above. In fact, I'm too hot. With the swift motion of a young cat, I rise and run into the water in my Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. Click below to hear the song. 1/15/2013 08:13:17 pm
I remember the songs, and I remember lying out in the backyard. When I got too warm, I came in the house and passed out--dehydration probably. That's when I stopped tanning. Comments are closed.
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AuthorFrancene Stanley, author of many published novels. If you like my writing, why not consider purchasing one of my books? You'll see them on the sidebar below. Archives
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