She left me in the room. All alone. The other suits all got taken out, except one that got left in Denton. It still had its tags so it wont know no different anyways. But I do!

She, unlike the others, except for the suitless girl with the healing ruptured eardrum, thought the evening called for wading, not submersion. I know what will happen, and she’ll regret it. Galveston waves are unpredictable and unstable. Gentle lulling swells give way to slapping, engulfing breakers. She may think she’s safe to wade mid calf, but no matter how high she rolls them, those waves will get those stiff denim shorts and she’ll be sorry! Then she’ll have sand and salt turning those cottony things into sandpaper! Ha, serves her right.

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