[Santo - The Beach]
[master post]
You have to walk down a ramp to get to the sand. The ramp stretches over sand dunes, with sea oats dotting them, blowing in the near-constant breeze. On the same level as the ramp: a boardwalk, dotted with places to get sketchy-looking fried food, to try your luck at a number of games of chance, to watch performers, to ride roller coasters of the future!!!!
When you walk down the ramp, it's all white sand and blue water. Down about half a mile is a pier that juts out several hundred feet.
It's a nice beach. Not too crowded.
You have to walk down a ramp to get to the sand. The ramp stretches over sand dunes, with sea oats dotting them, blowing in the near-constant breeze. On the same level as the ramp: a boardwalk, dotted with places to get sketchy-looking fried food, to try your luck at a number of games of chance, to watch performers, to ride roller coasters of the future!!!!
When you walk down the ramp, it's all white sand and blue water. Down about half a mile is a pier that juts out several hundred feet.
It's a nice beach. Not too crowded.
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"Ours," he says, and his voice tips up at the end, as though it's half a question.
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"With pretty good reason."
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Who gives a damn.
Simon leans over and kisses the corner of her mouth, lightly.
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Which means that when Kaylee sits back, she asks -- pleased, mind, but she still asks -- "What's gotten into you?"
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"...Euphoria's also a symptom of recovery."
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She looks a little too innocent. "Just out of bein' curious and whatnot."
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"Do you mean things I might actually enjoy doing at the time?"
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He starts to tick points off on his fingers.
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She's laughing a little.
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"Has that ever happened to anyone you know?"
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He takes another drink of coffee, by way of emphasis.
"So what do you think should happen tonight?"
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"I think we ought to stay out all night, get a little drunk, talk about anything and everything, go find a bit of abandoned sand, and watch the sun come up."
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"It's a good plan," he allows judiciously. "Leaves some room for flexibility."
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She sits up, beaming, her smile trained nowhere but him. "I'd say hurry up and finish your drink, but... we don't exactly need to hurry for once."
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"We don't," he agrees, and takes a leisurely sip.
"Unless you want to get there before the dancing starts."
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"...you're not serious."
It's almost -- almost -- a squeal.
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His smile is verging on smug.
"I looked into it yesterday."
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