(no subject)
Rae awoke this morning with an irritating little tickle in the back of her throat, as if she had something stuck there that she couldn't get free, no matter how much she coughed or cleared her throat. It was annoying, but not nearly as annoying as actually getting up had been. Her arms and legs ached as though she'd run a race in her sleep, and felt about that tired, too, past the usual tiredness from bad dreams.
She would have stayed in - it was cold outside, sure, and the cold air probably wouldn't be good for her throat - but the day was also bright and clear. Such days were rare enough in winter that Rae wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. She'd trekked through what was left of the snow until she'd reached the Caribbean inlet, and then shed her hat, coat and boots before settling on the still-warm sand to soak in the sunlight.
She would have stayed in - it was cold outside, sure, and the cold air probably wouldn't be good for her throat - but the day was also bright and clear. Such days were rare enough in winter that Rae wasn't about to pass up the opportunity. She'd trekked through what was left of the snow until she'd reached the Caribbean inlet, and then shed her hat, coat and boots before settling on the still-warm sand to soak in the sunlight.