Eight hundred ninety-seven miles later, she's lounged naked under buxom moonlight, leaned back on her elbows, wiggling her toes in the ocean, and laughing as waves roll up her legs. Laughing, eyes shadowed away under the floppy brim of her continentally large sun hat, just her large mouth lit, rollicking over a favorite anecdote, purple.
She petered out the anecdote and gazed peacefully at the waves,wiggled her coy tarantula fingers in the water, as it climbed up her ribs.
Finally, solemnly, she said: "Thank-you. Thank-you for bringing me here, even like this."