This story was prompted by the photo below at Friday Fictioneers, https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/11/25/27-november-2015 , hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The photo was kindly provided by Sandra Crook.
On the beach (99 words)
Margaret jerked awake as hot goo struck her forehead. A fulmar squawked overhead. Even with a hangover Margaret knew waking up on a beach wasn’t normal. Her 65th birthday party must have been a riot.
She pulled her phone from a sand-filled pocket and dialled Roger’s number. No answer. Where the hell was he?
Margaret called Rita and told her where she was.
‘You almost got your wish then?’ Rita asked.
‘When you blew out your candles, you wished you could wake up next to Cliff.’
Margaret looked up. ‘The birthday genie must have misheard.’
‘Roger obviously didn’t.’
Firstly, an apology – I’m sorry about the corny joke, but it was in my head and I had to get it out.
Secondly, supplementary information. Any Cliff would have done for the purpose of stirring up Roger’s jealousy, but the one I had in mind was (Sir) Cliff Richard, who most British/Commonwealth readers will know as “The Peter Pan of Pop”. Sir Cliff is adored by his female fans in the UK, many of whom have remained loyal to him since the 1960s or earlier. American readers might not be aware of Sir Cliff, who never really made it big in the US, even though he has sold more than 250 million records worldwide. Billboard magazine has described him as the biggest thing in British rock & roll before the Beatles http://www.billboard.com/artist/299430/cliff-richard/biography .
On the Beach was a 1964 UK hit single for Cliff Richard with The Shadows.
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