We procure beverages with remarkable simplicity from one of the makeshift bars on the beach nearer the other entrance. Nobody even asked us for money... Doesn’t seem like anyone has any. The one made out of driftwood, not the one made out of old pallets. We sit atop a picnic table, sipping the fruity concoction in our cups and resting our feet on the seats to take a break from the sand as well. I can’t really taste any alcohol, but I do feel immediately more relaxed. The table is slowly. Me and my parents and younger sister were in Spain to celebrate my eighteenth. We’d been invited out tonight by the couple just down the corridor in our block of apartment. Etta and Simon Brody were there names. Etta was dressed in a smart lime green dress which clung to her figure. She must have been in her late thirties but it didn’t show. “Anyway, me and Simon love it here in Spain. It’s just fantastic. Sun, sea and….,” Etta giggled. “Hey less of that - there’s kids round,” Simon mockingly. More

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