She sat at her desk and drummed her fingers across the keyboard. Seven more days of this, she thought. Seven more days until she could surround herself in sun tan lotion and sand. Already she could hear the sound of the gulls and the waves lapping at the shore. Soon, she would stand in the surf and let the water wash over her ankles, sinking. Sinking and relaxing. Isn’t that what vacation was all about it?
Sinking her paycheck…but sinking…no, absorbing all the sun, waves, blue sky and soft comforter that she could stand. That time in the morning where you relish in the fact that there’s no place to be. No work, no appointments, no commitments whatsoever. Just the promise she’ll make to herself when she stretches her toes out of the covers and reaches her arms up over her head. Soon it’ll be the time to relax, to slough off the bruises of a long day, and the scourge of human emotions. Soon. But not yet. Not yet.