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Vacation: By Sky Johnson

Actually not having stuff to do for an entire day is pretty relaxing. Both of my siblings and I are piled into one hammock. Chilling, despite the warmth of their legs against mine and the baking heat of the sun. Drowsily, I ask Xavier, on my left, “are there any sodas left?” Eagerly plunging his hand into the cooler below us, he searches to no avail.

“‘Fraid not, bro.”

Gotta have a soda for this to be perfect. Haphazardly I try to exit the hammock. I recoil at the hot sand cooking my bare feet. Jumping around, I look for my sandals, seeing them by my sister.

“Kick them over to me,” I ask. Lesley obliges, they land with a dull thud in front of me. My feet, now protected, carry me to the cabin we rented. Netting that only keeps out insects slips over me as I walk in. Opening the fridge, I see my prizes.

Picking up as many bottles as my arms can carry, I close the fridge with my foot. Queen-like grace in my stumblings, I head back to the hammock.

“Really could use a hand here,” I say to my lounging siblings. So acting like the saviors they are, they come over. Taking their fair share of the weight. Unceremoniously dumping the beverages into the cooler.

Very carefully we get back into the hammock. Weighing it down to the sand. Xavier nudges me in my arm.

“You sure picked a nice vacay spot, bro.” Zephyr agrees, greeting us with a gentle kiss that ruffles our hair.