It’s The Tropics

Photo prompt © Susan Eames

 

“How long has he been sitting there?”

Brody shrugged. “Was there when I got here.”

Linda glanced at her husband’s torso. Brody had two hues: pasty-white or lobster-red, and it took him about an hour to transform from one to the other. He was reaching lobster status. At least an hour, then.

“What’s he doing?”

Brody scratched under his shades, and Linda noted to herself that his face was following his chest’s example. “On the phone?”

“Put your shirt on, Captain Obvious. But why there? Is he watching for something?”

“It’s the tropics, Dear. Pirates, runaway coconuts, or tsunamis.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictoneers

 

36 thoughts on “It’s The Tropics

  1. Na’ama Y’kara,

    Brody sounds like my husband. Bring on the sunscreen. 😉 Gotta love the guy in the tree. We all have to wonder what he’s doing up there and to whom he’s speaking. Love your take on it.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

    • 🙂 Glad you liked it, Rochelle! I though that at least some of us (of the white-or-lobster disposition, which I am one …) would at least have some connection to at least the observing vantage point … 😉
      (though as a child I’d probably be the one up there on the tree. I climbed just about any tree I was allowed to — and some I was not — and every high structure I was allowed to (and some I was not) … 😉

      Liked by 2 people

    • 🙂 Glad you liked it and … yes … in my mind’s eye they’d been married for a good long comfortable while … complete with knowing what battles aren’t worth fighting and how to push each others’ buttons besides … 😉
      🙂

      Liked by 1 person

    • 🙂 Thanks, Keith!
      I think lobster guy will not appreciate being his own story but … I have a feeling his story might’ve kept him up that night tossing and turning to find a tolerable non-scalded position …

      Liked by 1 person

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