Happy Independence Day!  There’s a strange feeling in Boston for the holiday this year, because they moved the annual Boston Pops Concert and fireworks to last night due to the approach of Hurricane Arthur and its torrential rains expected today.  What are we supposed to do with no fireworks and no barbecue?  Oh… right… I can write a “Flash Fiction Friday!”  

Here’s this week’s photo and challenge from Advizor54’s site.  Go over there to see what he and other blogs wrote to celebrate our great nation’s birthday!  I chose this photo from his three options because she reminds me of me!  Many years ago but… Enjoy!  

I sat on the front of the boat.. oh, excuse me… should use boating terms today.. the bow!  Nothing but beautiful blue ocean and sun and… the gaggle of 20-somethings my niece had invited to help us celebrate the holiday.  Boating is not my thing… the sun is my enemy.  But I go along, toss on a big hat and Neutrogena spf 70 sunblock, long-sleeves and slacks and relax.  My sister settles me in a quiet spot, hands me lemonade and grapes and I watch the wet world go by.  Hours pass.  

The kids dove into the ocean, floating and frolicking in the icy water about 50 feet from the boat.  My sister and brother-in-law were sitting in… hmmm… the stern!  

A gorgeous blond burly boy… oops.. young man… plopped down beside me.  He was wearing red white and blue Speedo shorts.  I looked him up and down.  He smiled, brazen in his knowledge that I liked what I saw.  

“No swimming?” I inquired, wondering why he hadn’t joined his friends. 

“Sharks,” he said calmly.  That was silly but I wasn’t going to argue. 

He pulled his phone out and thumbed through photos.  I shamelessly watched.  They were photos of models in red white and blue swimsuits!  When he got to a particularly buxom brunette beauty, I pointed. 

“That one… I looked like that at your age,” I winked.  His eyes grew wide as he stared at the photo, then at my chest, obviously wondering what was under all my layers. 

“Show me,” he winked back, waving at my breasts.  I shook my head. 

“Please?  Come on… ‘let freedom ring’ and all that,” he cajoled me.  “I’ll get you off,” he promised boldly, wiggling his eyebrows.  How could I resist such an sexy offer?