The Short Stories...
Sally always ignored the cars that honked at her as she walked over the bridge from her home and into the village. Her shapely body belied her age, but when the cars passed by the drivers would spot her pubescent face and speed by while Sally stayed focused on praying to the universe.
“Please be there tonight, Connie. Please be there.”
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The Mango Bar had been in full swing the night before and I’d drunk enough to wipe me out. Before the sun was fully up, I had dragged my sorry carcass to my favorite spot on the beach, and passed out before the weekend tourists swarmed in. I lay vegetating with a wet towel over my face to sooth my throbbing head. Several times I waved blindly at my leg, trying to swot off the Marsh Fly or whatever it was that was determined to bug my recovery.