I was just saying adios to the faded remains of my muck-up day tanline, when an innocent walk along the sunny beach in the same top sent the red and white stripes on my shoulders and chest roaring back to life again. I am now thoroughly convinced that my upper torso has effectively tattooed itself into two different skin tones for the rest of my life. Why does it always happen on the last day of the holiday? Its like a memento, just in case I accidentally to forget the vacation. A week later when I go to get dressed, the burning sensation of the brastrap rubbing my upper arm will remind me of the wonderful time I had in Ocean grove, and the stupidity of thinking ‘she’ll be right’ in relation to sunscreen.
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