Penultimate.
It's one of those misleading words that can easily lead you to assume it's more than its root word if you don't know any better.
It's the word that came to mind when I thought about Guyam Island. The second last stop of our island hopping tour.
With the day winding down and our bellies full, we piled back into the boat again to another tropical paradise, surrendering ourselves to the local crew's knowledge and expertise at taking us there.
Guyam Island was rock pool and regret.
A total temptation I resisted because -- get this -- I didn't wanna get wet. Like, who the fuck thinks like that?
Me.
I waded in the deliciously warm water. Shallow and sand. All I had to do was give in and immerse myself in the sea fragments.
But, no.
I'm a lizard. I bask on rocks and stare stupidly at the sun.
*Raven at 7 years old
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