Vesta was rarely frightened and it was with her usual stoicism that she booked herself into the grand old spa. She knew what to expect, she’d been there before.
Here the tea was far more… casual and European than the British high tea. But far more structured than the slow ebb and flow of spinsters to tea at the rooming house. The spa’s looming facade made a solid perceptual barrier between inside the spa and the rest of the big messy world.
Vesta loved the barrier even though she knew it was a false one. Through the doors she sighed and years of stress whooshed out with that breath.
And the pool. The blue blue quiet pool. Vesta made sure to sneak up on the pool so she would have it all to herself. The sun baked the patio; the water welcomed her, cold as it was. That dive took pounds more stress away. Every time.