Seven-year Itch and Other Urban Myths
This story makes me smile every time I read it and I’m sooooo happy they picked it up for publication at Roi Faineant. Thank you! Hope you enjoy reading it.
‘I didn’t even want to come,’ I moan.
I walk up and down the beach, my bikini already dry, stopping to look at the burns covering my arms, my chest, and most of my legs. All this pain seems so out of place in this paradise of rice-flour sand and pristine water. And nobody here. Not a single person.
We should have known.
Paul is also walking, waving his mobile phone in the air.
‘I’m sure there must be a better signal, somewhere,’ he insists.
‘It’s a bay. We’re surrounded by rocks. Let’s just go back to the village, find a farmacia. It’s not like I can’t walk.’