Bora Bora will have to wait.

Tired.  So tired.  I rest my head on my pillow, close my eyes and drift gently on clear water.  Floating beneath the sun.  The water feels soothing and perfect.  My head gently bumps the floating dock that leads to the boardwalk.  I pull myself up onto the drift wood.  My skin is salty and glistening. The sun envelopes me.  It’s arms hold me close to it’s hearth.  I tug the rope and pull the dock closer to the boardwalk…hoist myself up and slowly glide to my hut on warm air beneath my feet.  I enter.  I am home.  The glass floor of my sitting room imparts a view of the colorful sea life below.  I sink into my…cough…cough…whine…Muuummmmaaaaa!  Fuck.  What?  There is already drool on my pillow.  Why aren’t you in bed?  The soft squeak of my door gives way to a small figure holding a pillow.  She says nothing.  Get in, I tell her.  She runs over to my bed and clumsily climbs over me jabbing knees and elbows into parts of me where knees and elbows ought not jab.  By the light of my laptop I read the victorious smile on her lips.  A few minutes of pillow and blanket adjustments and she is out…counting aloud in her sleep.  She gets to ten and tiredly yells in a tiny, crackly voice…yay!  Now, where was I?  Right…Bora Bora.  Goodnight