Further Chapter in Book

The crashing waves and sound of the tide woke her from a deep sleep. The wind blew her hair across her face, and a spray of sand across the hammock. Willing herself not to move, she slowly adjusted herself until she was sitting on the edge of the hammock. The effort had her almost doubled over in exhaustion, despite the lengthy rest. Today was the Six week anniversary of her so called accident, and if the doctors were right for once, she had another six weeks to go before she felt like herself. The broken finger was out of it's cast, and the bruises were either healed or covered in semi-permanent make up. The absolute worst part of the whole situation was definitely her ribs. She decided again that she would rather be shot five times at once than have her ribs broken again, and she had the experience to make an informed decision.

Taking a reinforcing breath, she hauled herself up and over the edge of the hammock. Steadying herself on the sand, she started walking slowly back to the cabin. Leaving the doors wide open probably wasn't the soundest idea she'd ever had, but it made life simpler. Besides, if anyone was going to attack, she was done before she even tried.

Flicking the lights on as she stepped into the kitchen, she closed and locked the balcony behind her. To keep out the bugs, and God only knows what else. Opening the fridge, she found everything that she had purcahsed earlier that week sitting on the shelf. A lof of stale bread, suspect sandwhich meat, and cheese slices. The tins of soup she knew were int he cupboard sounded about as appetizing as cardboard.

Deciding a walk would be feasible, now that she'd spent the last 2 days barely moving, she threw on her jacket and headed down the street. Luckily, the cabin in Islamorada had several restaurants within a five minute walk. The air was nice and cool, a welcome reprieve from the baking sun of the last few days. August must be one of the hottest months to visit florida.