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A Sunny Daydream
(Written on the occasion of my being away for a month on Holiday)
Her eyes were closed, but she felt the sensation of sun-heated sand beneath her feet, and wiggling between her toes. Â A giggling-pleased expression snuck upon her lips, while luminous rays soaked her skin. She opened her eyes to the view of white sand beach extending before her, as far as the eye could see, lapped by lush green fields on one side, and the slow, steady roll of blue-green white-topped waves upon the other. Â Breathing deep of the sea-air, she leaned forward drawing her feet along into quick, long strides, each finishing with a soft landing in the endless sand. Â She took off with a motion as graceful as beautiful, leaving long golden locks trailing behind her, being tossed ever so gently in the breeze. Â
In the distance she heard friends calling her name, "Ayaaaa!" Â She closed her eyes again, never slowing her stride, embracing the moment of carefree fun beneath the sun's warmth. Â Again she heard her name called, this time with the sound of shortness, "Aya!"
The third call was accompanied with the tap of a small foot upon tile, "Aya, you'd better stop day dreaming this instant."  Aya blinked, the warmth of the sun, and the feel of the beach instantly dispelled.  "Aya, are you listening to me?" came Momodi's clear, agitated voice.
Aya blinked again, turning her attention to the diminutive proprietress. "I...?"Â she blinked again as Momodi tapped her feet, furrowing her brow in frustration, "I am sorry, but you're going to have to stay on late tonight. Â And tomorrow."
Still looking slightly befuddled, Aya stammered in reply, "But.. tomorrow's my day off...!"Â she implored, eyes widened with dissappointment.
"No buts!" stated Momodi, raising her index finger as flourish. Â "You know we're short-handed, and I need you tomorrow night."
"I..."Â she stammered again, a sense of resignation coming over her, "Of course, madam." she gave her head a little, polite, bow.
The Lalafel turned and  withdrew back to her stool in the center of the bar, while Aya turned her attention back to the overhead rail into which she was sliding the glasses and cups she had just finished cleaning and drying.  As she pushed the next pint into place, golden strands of her bangs fell across her eyes. She blew them away, with an expression of frustration.  It had been just that sort of day, no week (or more).  Her hair was a mess. The straps of her top strained and stung her sensitive skin. The top had seemed like such a good idea earlier in the day: cute and flirty, perfect for the light evening she had expected. But long hours had a way of ruining many a terrific idea.  Her feet, accustomed as they were to heels, ached with tired soreness that begged, along with the rest of her body, for a warm bath.
She sighed softly, turning her attention back out to the bar, full of the usual suspects and patrons. Â She smiled softly, with that pleasant and sweet look that usually made her attention so welcome. Â Her bangs fell, covering her eye again. Â A few watched and smiled in appreciation of the unintentional cuteness. Aya sighed softly under her breath, and turned her attention back to filling the racks. She closed her eyes. Â She felt the sun's warmth upon her cheeks. Â She sighed softly once more, feeling the sand beneath her feet, and she smiled happily to herself.
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