Promises Made to Self (Thanks!)

I promise myself I will write more in the new year. I promise I will write more once my computer gets fixed. I promise I will take my computer to Apple for repair after returning from vacation. I promise to have a fantastic vacation adventure. I promise to stay completely in the present while on holiday. I promise to read two books while there. I promise to finish the first, Mermaids in Paradise, on this second flight. I promise to lend it out at the resort without regard for its return.  I promise...

Wheels up.

Nipple Rings

It’s the glint that catches my eye. The way the small silver sphere captures the sun’s ray and throws it back at the corner of my eye. It dangles there so casually, too, swinging to and fro as he arranges himself on the sun lounger in front of me. I blink to make sure I’m seeing clearly.

It’s like a train wreck, or an accident; something weird and strange that you shouldn’t find scintillating but you do and you can’t help it. And I can’t stop staring at it hanging simply from his left nipple like a delicate horseshoe.

Am I turned on? Or revolted? It’s not like I haven’t seen one before. Both, maybe, but fascinated and stirred are befitting descriptions too. He completely owns my attention.

Dutch, most likely, because this is a Dutch island. Definitely exudes European though. Early 40’s, I’m guessing, with a pleasantly attractive face that's slightly craggy in a Tommy Lee Jones way. Artificial blond highlights grasp at the tips of his brown hair. Hazel eyes, probably. His body is fit as a swimmer's with long muscles, narrow waist, broad-shoulders.   

And a nipple ring.

Of course, I’m watching as he applies lotion. Though he lays facedown when finished, which somehow disappoints me but then tugs at his short, plaid swim trunks until the first curve of his muscular ass is exposed. Minimization of tan lines, I get it. 

It won’t take long before the sun bakes anything it touches on an island close to the equator. And it doesn’t.

Wiping at his brow with tanned fingers, he slips into the ocean. My eyes squint to see his body’s reflection cut smooth stokes through its crisp brightness. Cooling off from the sun’s merciless intensity before slowly ascending the wood steps directly in front of me.

My daughter wakes from her nap on an adjacent chair and asks,

“Mom, what do you keep looking at?”

“Whatever,” I reply, flipping my hand as if it were nothing.

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33-333 words for the 3rd definition of the word WHATEVER:
3.   (adverb) Used to show that something is not important