Sara Jo lay sprawled on the raft, too hot to move, and loving the feel of the sun beating down on her bare midriff and the sweat running down over her hip bone, even if she did have to slather herself in industrial-strength sunscreen to keep from shriveling up into a wrinkly ball of cancer. She dipped a toe into the water occasionally, daring a snapping turtle to take a bite. If only this weekend could go on forever. If only it weren’t a brief respite from the daily grind of answering support calls, battling traffic, standing in line at the grocery store, worrying about money, and all the other delightful little elements that made up life in the big city. When she was a kid, she couldn’t wait to be an adult. She, of course, hadn’t known how good she had it. Probably no kid does, she figured. She finally opened her eyes when a cool breeze tickled her belly, cooling the sweat and sending a shiver up her spine. The sun was lower in the sky than she’d expected. She should probably get back to the house. Maybe Tim would have started dinner. That’d be nice. She dove off the raft and swam with strong, sure strokes back towards the dock. That was the last anybody ever saw of her.
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