The waves lapped at the sides of the small wooden boat, steady and rhythmically, causing the flaking white paint of the rowboats boards to dip towards the sea as it rolled lazily around the rocky outcropping of ancient sandstone that formed the cliff face.
The boat had a lone occupant, battered hat pulled over his face, an arm draped over the side of the boat resting in the light water. He was sunburned, in that blissful way that comes from too much relaxation in the sun. The whole week had been amazingly peaceful, stress free.
He lifted a margarita and sipped it through the straw, enjoying the pleasant rocking of the boat.
To hell with responsibilities, to hell with being this or that.
For a while at least, he was at peace, enjoying the wonder of a silent sea, and the solitude of being lost in bliss.
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