Art by Chip Ghigna
It Sounds Like A Story
“So what if it’s raining,” Baxter laughed, pushing me and the thirty-some pounds of Katy out from under our beach umbrella. Picnic be damned. We came to have fun. And a sopping wet sheepdog and a wide-eyed girl who still uses her tomboy-days last name were not about to let a little rain dampen our rainy day weekend together.
She laughed again, shutting her eyes and raising her face to the rain, running down the beach like a maniac, her white shorts soaking through to nothing.
Giddy and out of breath, she lay at the edge of the surf, Katy licking her face, me laughing over them like some lucky beach bum smitten by the best damn day of his life.