"Holy crap!" Liz let out the breath she'd been holding on the way out to the car. Three whole months away from this place. A part of her was relieved beyond belief, and then another part of her thought "what the hell am I going to do alone on an island all summer?" She hoped that she would at least have interesting neighbors and maybe thin walls. Nothing like a little controversy to get her antennae twitching. She was exactly like her mother.

She did enjoy sunshine and the ocean though, even if she was terrified of being eaten by a shark, or even one of those cute multi-colored little fish you see staring blankly at you in Dentist waiting rooms.

On the plane, she dug in her bag and picked up each of the paperback novels she'd picked up in the small airport book store. "eh"…none looked remotely interesting to her now that two dozen people weren't breathing down her neck for their turn at the check-out. She resolved herself to staring out the window and daydreaming.

She didn't know why she chose this island to go to on the only three month vacation she'd have for another seven years. The accommodations were reasonable, but it was the scenery in the pamphlets on the travel agent's desk that struck something inside her. It reminded her of a place that she knew, like coming back from a vacation and seeing the first familiar landmark that meant you were back home. It gave her comfort for some reason, and on a whim she booked the three months at an expensive looking, yet reasonably priced resort right on the beach.

As the jet landed, Liz looked out across the expanse of the small airfield and saw a tiny two engine plane bustling with activity. "You've got to be kidding me, That cannot be what I'm climbing in." She felt her stomach drop as they landed and she gathered her belongings to board the tiny aircraft. She thought of her parakeet then. Her little parakeet Chris was currently babysitting, of whom that she might never see again.

When the plane finally landed, after an endless expanse of blue horizon and Liz feeling as though she was about to voluntarily launch her own heart to the next transplant beneficiary, Liz stepped off the plane with wobbly legs and graciously thanked the pilot for allowing her to live another day.

She looked around through the meager crowd, and saw a frail older looking tanned native gentleman with a sign reading her name. She half walked- half stumbled her way with her bags over to the man, who hurriedly stepped forward to grab her suitcases from her, gently laying them in the back of a modest, weathered looking SUV. "Name's Ray, ma'am. Pleasure to have you staying with us at the West Sands."

Liz exchanged pleasantries with the man, the entire stretch down the coastal road and up the winding drive to the resort, lined with driftwood and tall dry mounds of grass that made her feel like she was going through a tunnel of sunshine and the shadows of objects in her wake.