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Lake havasu memorial day bikinis

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It was a foreign country to me, and though at first it all seemed exotic and quite beautiful, it began to dawn on me that it was utterly concocted and entirely debauched, but not in a good way. Man-made, bejesus hot, patches of sand turned to Lake havasu memorial day bikinis.

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Home of Iron Mountain and McCulloch chainsaws. London Bridge, disassembled, shipped, reassembled.

The white sturgeon stocked, found dead, some lost, hiding in the depths of Parker Dam. Fifty year-old monsters, maybe twenty feet long. Lake named for the Mojave word for blue.

Lake Havasu during Memorial Day...

What we called the sky on largemouth bass days, striped bass nights, carp, catfish, crappie, razorback, turtles, stocked, caught, restocked. I stood waist deep in that dammed blue, and I was beautiful, Lake havasu memorial day bikinis life saver resting on my young hips, childless, oblivious to politics, to the life carted in and dumped into the cauldron I swam through, going under, gliding along the cool sand like a human fish, white bikini-ed shark flashing my blind side.

Lake havasu bikini beach lake...

We heard a woman died, face down in the sand, drunk on a degree day. That night we slept on dampened sheets, a hotel ice bucket on the bedside table.

Lake havasu bikini beach lake...

We sucked the cubes round, slid the beveled edges down our thighs and spines, let them melt to pools Lake havasu memorial day bikinis the small caves below our sternums. While you slept beside me I thought of that woman, her body one long third degree burn, sweating and turning under a largo moon, the TV on: Used with permission of the author.


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