grabbing his towel in the same motion. He retrieved a bottle of orange juice from the small refrigerator and went forward to relax on the trampoline. Peering at the larger island, he could make out the faint image of a jet ski skirting across the water. It amazed him how many people loved noise. Insistent that they need a break from the grind, they travel to a remote area to unwind, only to shop with a thousand other tourists, or zip across the bay on a rocket running at 80 decibels. He smiled to himself and tipped his orange juice in their direction. To each his own, he thought. He should, in
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