July, steamy hot, moonless. Steve and I skinny dipping in our pool. Car doors slam, people talking, laughing. Someone parking to walk to the beach, we decide. The squeak of our gate. My mother’s voice, calling out that she has brought friends over to say hello and see our house, within sight of the ocean. Our clothes are a good distance away by the back door. We duck down into the water, up to our chins, hoping she doesn’t see us, hoping she takes them inside so we can
grab our clothes. Mom and company are coming closer.
Romance and travel writer Bobbi Lerman runs prompt and workshop group Scribbler's Ink. Her latest piece, A Traveler’s Heart, appeared in Bella Grace in December.