Writing 101 second post


“Booze in the blender” may be a peculiar phrase to start off a piece about space and locations, considering I am not huge drinker, but it is definitely one of the first things that come to my mind as I started writing. The line, as I am using it, comes from a little song called “Margaritaville” by one Jimmy Buffet; and it whisks me away to a far off land of beautiful white beaches. A cool beverage, meant to numb me to the vendettas and tribulations of the world with each sensational sip, sits gently in my hand as I stretch out in a cheaply made lawn chair.

The orange rays gently caress as I barely move my slothful figure, bronzing like a thanksgiving turkey in the oven, and moving about half as much. As I turn over and relax on my stomach, I place the drink down and sweep…

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