The cold wind hit Josh in the face like a hammer. It crashes against his chest, his bare legs, his doc martins, and his well covered pelvis. He wore denim shorts, 2 sizes to small. A Hawaiian over-shirt with the top button undone. A pair of aviator sunglasses rested on top of his head. Tucked into his hair. His feet sunk into the sand. His brand new dock martins were now covered in the stuff. "I hate sand" said a unseen voice. "It's rough, irritating, and it gets everywhere." The voice continued. "Who's there?" Said josh. There was fear in his voice. A sleak linear figure emerged from the shadows. "It's me silly." Said the figure. Josh exhaled in relief. It was his longtime friend and business partner Megan. "Your late" josh said, irritated. "I'm not late it's only..." Megan looked at her watch, only to see that she was indeed late. "Where is everyone else?" Josh said impatiently. He looke from side to side, as if expecting an attack of some kind. "I don't know. Last I heard they were with the boss." Megan said while fiddling with her watch. "He is expecting us."
A black limousine pulled up in front of them. The doors opened automatically. "Well then. Let's not keep him waiting."
YOU ARE READING
Aloha Argentina
FantasyA group of friends find themselves on a quest to find the mythical Adolf Hitler in the jungles of argentina.
