Nausicaa had just finished slathering on the SPF15 olive oil her mother sent with her when some of the women had started up a volley ball game. They were taking the washing in turns, so that half the women could play and sunbathe until the other half had completed pounding a set of clothes.

Nausicaa unstrapped her sandals and jogged over to one side of the net where she was given the ball. Up into the air she tossed the brown leather sphere, then served it deep, hard and fast into the other team. They were only able to scoop up the ball millimetres above the sand, and sent it on an easy arc back to the other side. Dymea leapt and gave it a heavy slap. The ball landed firmly on the inside of the other team's boundary. Unfortunately, it also hit a rock and bounced high over the bushes and into the nearby stream. All of the players cried out in disappointment.

"Now you're in for it, Dymea. So who's going to fetch the ball?" One of the women called out.

"Nevermind, I'll get it," replied Dymea, and she and several others headed toward the stream banks happily chatting along the way.

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Copyright © 1998 Katherine Phelps