The melodic clang of the chains beyond the scintillating jungle rings clear as a bell in your head. First, it was a threat to your lonely, defenseless ass on this beach of solitude. Now it has become your future as you confidently strut away from the shore and into the luscious and hopeful unknown. Your heart pounds, breathing irregular, you realize whatever is beyond this wood could save you; explain why you woke up on this beach alone; show you the way home, which you can’t place at this time, but know you are missing. Adrenaline morphs your stomp into a light tread toward the fairy dusted palms when it occurs to you that there could be a hottie waiting for you on the other side and you have no idea how long it’s been since you trimmed your nose hairs. Your heart warms as you remember another one of your favorite things.
There is no fear of the unknown with Philip’s personal trimmer. For unwanted hairs of all kinds!
Another piece of the puzzle to whom you are or used to be.
A dull hum from above. Is that a rescue plane?!