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I gazed at the vast scene as my sandal-covered feet flopped on the solid wooden boards. People—men, women, and children of various shades and sizes wearing swim attire—eased down the narrow boarded path I followed. By their voices, they engaged in happy conversations. You could tell they enjoyed each other's company—so much that they overlooked the eager workers standing outside the mini shops on the left trying to get them to buy overpriced souvenirs.
Such a shame.
Those same individuals in tacky Hawaiian shirts tried to work what they would call their 'persuasion magic' on me as I tried to pass by. Like mice coming in contact with cheese, they ran from their posts and swarmed me, halting my movements. My anxiety rose.
I was never fond of attention. It made me cringe and immediately want to crawl inside a shell for protection. That desire could've been a reality. If only I were a turtle.
