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I have finally perfected the magic of teleportation. On this wintery Valentine’s Day in Maine, with a cold front settled in over the landscape like a cool-pack, I have been luxuriating in Hawaii. Waikiki to be exact.
I’ve been listening to slack-string guitar played by an older man wearing a splashy shirt and a lei (thanks to Pandora Radio).
I’ve been laughing with my sister at a luxury hotel while the lights from the tiki torches dance, reflected, in the water of the pool while we slurp down tropical drinks garnished with pink umbrellas stuck in pieces of fresh pineapple (thanks to my imagination).
The air is warm and balmy (thanks to the electric heater).
What exactly is this, you ask? Inspired by a trip we took a few years ago, I’ve been writing a story set in Hawaii, and what could be better than that on a mid-winter…
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