There’s a kiteboarder zipping in and out of the frothy waves. The sea breeze is cool, the sun warm on your face. There’s a little girl making sand angels on the shore, picking up shells and throwing them back into the ocean. There’s a faint thumping of music from a resort nearby.
It’s the same island, a different time. The wind is too strong—they’ve already set up barriers along the beachfront. The sun is still shining.
And the only remembrance you get? The faint color on your cheeks and a tiny purple bruise on your right knee.