Monday, July 29, 2002
Mike is sitting about fifty feet away from me next to the waterfall, the white current pushing over copper-colored boulders the size of automobiles under his sandaled feet. His heather tank-top reads: Catch a Wave 2 Paradise. I hunker under a rocky outcropping that's shaded from the sun, the cool stone presses against my neck, and I wonder how long I can sit here before he notices I'm not next to him. Mike looks over his well-muscled shoulder and sticks out his tongue.
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