Seventeen

I never was very good at fishing. I lost my bait but never jagged anything much. Life had turned out pretty much the same. But I stupidly assumed today would somehow be different.

'So...' I began.

Nina squelched her toes into the wet sand.

'What do you do?' Don't ask me I hadn't already asked that. Conversation isn't really my forte, and besides, the question probably wouldn't lead us to talking about me, so hadn't been a priority.

'Do?' She looked up with a smile of joy as the undertoe sucked at her feet.

The dark gold sand trailed from her foot in a thin stream in the otherwise clear water. 'Yeah... between waking and sleeping.'

She shrugged. 'Whatever.'

Now I respect the free flowing take on life; I make it a rule not to plan a day before it actually arrives, in case something happens in the delivery - and then I've wasted my planning time, but even I know what I spend most of my time doing. My fingers were getting itchy thinking about it. (Don't make me slap you.)

Eighteen