Holding Out For A Hero #MondayBlogs

It was the summer of Jaws.  I was 14 and had just seen The Movie of the Summer before going to visit my grandparents in Sarasota, Florida like I did every year.  They lived near Siesta Keys white, sandy beaches.  Like most teen girls at the time I was into sunbathing before anyone considered it more dangerous than sharks.

I’d stretch out on a raft daydreaming and drifting out into the ocean, usually not very far.  Eventually I'd paddle my way back or the waves would pull me...