“Oh, those old things?” Anna said, looking at a folded stack of long-sleeved sun shirts. “They are more trouble than they’re worth. You need to get air in on hot days like this.”
Nonetheless, I had nothing better to hike in, so I borrowed one from Anna - my sister - on our Appalachian hike, three days into my visit to the East Coast. I wore an old fishing hat she kept in her closet, too, something she said an old friend left behind. It smelled like dust and neglect but covered my neck and ears.
She slathered her arms in sunscreen and seemed to never get tired, though she acted like she needed a water break when I was getting winded, probably out of politeness.
Three hours in, we were sitting on a rock, and I saw a tick crawling on Anna’s ear- then her neck- then three down her shirt.
She looked at my loaner clothes enviously the whole trek home.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.13 seconds at 6:43am on Aug 11, 2025 via server WEBX2.