Izzy White? by Wolfe Barry

Author:Wolfe, Barry [Wolfe, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: The Wolfe Forest Publishers
Published: 2015-07-05T16:00:00+00:00

My rant and reverie is interrupted by the appearance of Bobby and Len. Each is standing above me with a girl on his arm. Trailing slightly behind is a shy but attractive girl in a bikini, whose color matches her green eyes. All three girls are cute and curvy, but it is clear that Bobby has pre-assigned the three. It is also clear that he has chosen for himself the most attractive of the three. “Izzy, I want you to meet my new friend, Veyda Minnit.” Veyda is blond and blue-eyed. Her entire demeanor exudes sexual desire. Her fire-red bikini adds to this impression. Len follows suit. “And this is Mara Nating.” At the sound of her name, Mara clings more tightly to Len’s arm and gives me a proprietary smile. “Izzy,” Bobby continues, his voice assuming a greater degree of formality, “I particularly want you to meet Miss Claire Azmud.” Claire blushes crimson, which adds an interesting contrast to her black hair, green eyes and deep tan. I get up to shake hands with each prize catch of Bobby’s feminine treasure hunt. I’m staring at three sets of gorgeous, smiling teeth. My gaze lingers on Claire’s face. There is something familiar about it, but I can’t place where I might have seen her before. From behind me, I hear Bobby say, “Listen, Izzy, do you mind keeping Claire company? The four of us want to hit the bars and Claire doesn’t want to go.” I turn toward Bobby and roll my eyes in dismay. I look back at Claire and see that she’s staring uncomfortably at the sand. Politeness trumps dismay, and I reply “Of course.” Claire and I watch the giggling quartet running toward the bars inadvertently kicking up sand that lands on the sun-tanning occupants of the many blankets they pass. We can hear some choice cuss words from the near-by victims of the quartet’s human-made sand storm. This invective produces only more giggles from the insouciant four as they attempt to pick up their pace. More speed, of course, leads to more flying sand and more cussing.

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