Laura washes at the beach

As the wooden pier beneath my feet turned to concrete pavement, I looked at the waves crashing against the very busy beach. Screw it, I thought. My Naked body was already the talk of the town. Better to just brave it head on. Aghast murmurs and Wolf whistles passed me by as the dry sand turned to wet clumps, and my lower body became immersed in the freezing sea. With my hands stuck to my thighs, I couldn’t risk going too far out into the tide, so I opted for quick dunks rather than a full bath, which meant my breasts frequently resurfaced, to the delight of the other beach goers. But while the ice cream, tartare sauce and pen scribbles had washed away, the glue on my lips and thighs stubbornly remained. It seemed the Queen had made the glue water resistant.

Not wanting to prune, I emerged from the ocean, my wet body glistening under the sunlight. But when I stepped onto the shore, I was met with a group of 4 unhappy looking women.

“So, you’re the meddling hussy that flung away our husbands' prize catches,” spat the one in the middle, seemingly the ring leader. “My Jeffrey would’ve won too! It was going to be the proudest moment of my life.”

"Mmmphh!" I said.

"I think this woman is mocking you Edna."

"I think you're right. Valarie. We ought to teach her a lesson."