– Ambre, can I take the helm for a while?
– Sure Grace! Be careful with the floating logs. I’ll fetch us a glass of Prosecco.
Coming back from the cabin, a glass in each hand, the sillhouette of Grace at the helm cast on the immensity of the sky gave me shivers of joy. So we drank to the vastness of the sea, to the infinitude of the sky, to the dolphins greeting us, to friendship. There was so many beautiful things to celebrate. I fetched the remaining bottles from the cabin.
Some time and some bottles later, we were fully absorbed, exploring the tickling feelings sparkling drops of Prosecco combined with the gentle sea breeze had on our nipples when…
– Oh my God! The helm!
But it was too late.
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