Beach, Blanket, What Do We Know?
Things changed over the years in their hometown and Phyllis enjoyed a Zaru snack while sitting on the sandy beach contemplating reality in her maiden lifestyle waiting for Breccia to stop surfing. As the future dealt with the challenges of the new century the honest fact was more British pounds were needed for the healthy financial circulation through the tourist shoppes.
“We are at war Phil,” her friend’s board dropped while dripping from the ocean, “everyone is out of the money and there is no notation of anybody anywhere.”
“Face it, Breccia we are endangered species,” Phyllis commented about having a winning image, “there was a time in the past our rockin attitude would be the victorious solution like em em D’ar.”
“That is right the daughters of the revolution put on a good show and we have to measure up to that level,” Breccia started to dry off, “And beyond to you know win.”
Finding an open space Phyllis requested Breccia to join her relaxing in the sun, “Take the sit,” Phyllis offered, “and find a second not to be so Brazin Breccia.”
Both were comfortable living in colonial era cottages off the beach and that was probably where the historical concern emerged despite the truth being their descendants were prisoners.
“So, Phyllis when do you think our Shinkansen will come in?” Breccia wiped the sand off her feet.
“You mean the one that is the speeding bullet?” Phyllis answered with a question.
“Well, is Don is good?” Breccia smirked changing the subject finishing the broken curiosity thought,
“Breccia,” Phyllis gave a weird look, “he is out of the money and not even there, oh about going to the to pick up some British pounds at the soldier club you know to even things up what is the deal with Shamus?”
Chuckling Breccia was very honest, “Shamus’ dream is to roam free in this place and enjoy the Black hill Kitty show as a willful spirit.”
“So, what you are saying is Shamus is out of the money and not there,”
Peering out to the ocean that surrounded their existence on the Sunshine Coast and wanting an electrical charge they tried to figure out a sparking solution.
“We could go to the jewelry store?”
“That would spike the Coulomb number,” Breccia interest perked.
“Where do you want to go,” Phyllis rose grabbing her purse.
“The Cartiar store,” Breccia said.
“You mean Cartier,” Phyllis corrected.
“No Cartiar,” Breccia reinforced, “we need the fakes, we are out of the money.”
Comments