... the phone stops ringing.

There, exactly where she rembered, the old wall phone seems to be sneering at her.
Fuck, she almost broke a leg to answer the call.

Vanessa snorts frustrated lifting the reciver.
Thoughtfully she looks at the earpice.
Would have it been something less outdated, she could have used the redial function to get to know who the hell was calling.

"Well, if it's something important, they'll call again." She sighs hanging up the reciver and walking back to the living room.

Her missing filp flop lays at the bottom of the staircase, she puts it on and heads out in the porch.

Finally, she can lay down unders the sun and relax.
She draws a deep breath, filling her nostrils with the salty air.

The bag with her beach towels is still there, on the wicker chair.
After a quick look around, Vanessa adjust the pesky string of her bikini riding up and heads down to the beach.

She gets rid of her flip flops.
The sand is buring.
Apprently the clouds have thinned out, and the sun is blazing back at full power.
Midway from the shore, Vanessa drops her towel on the ground and makes a break for the inviting clear water.

She dives in with a big splash, re-emerging after a moment in shock.
The water is actually colder than it looks.

She gets up, adjusting her swimuit and walks back out of the water.
Moments later, she is finally laid face down on her towel, drying herself up and sunbathing.