My Happy Place

After a stressful day, when I had trouble falling asleep, I decided to try a technique my doctor taught me before I underwent a minor procedure without any pain meds.

“You won’t have to worry about that awful hangover from any drugs. Just find your happy place,” the doc enthused. “And focus on that. Before you know it, you’ll be far away from this place, and you won’t feel any pain!”

As a teenager, my happy place was always Jones Beach, NY. I would arrive early before the toll, just as dawn was breaking. The causeway was empty of other cars, all was quiet on the beach, parking spots were plentiful and you could choose any field you’d like.

I’d bring my coffee, buttered roll, and something to read in blissful peace, with no interruptions.  Then, I would lay on my blanket and just soak up the sun while listening to the seagulls happily milling about, foraging for food as the waves gently rolled in, then receded.

But now, as I’m trying to find solace on a sleepless night, the sunshine of my happy place is beginning to look more like an unwanted storm cloud on the horizon. It occurs to me that I can’t really lay in the sun anymore; I mean, hello, skin cancer! And another wrinkle? No thanks. I’ve got plenty already, and I’m not looking to adopt anymore.

So now, in my happy place, I’ve etched a large, colorful umbrella to keep my skin safe from the sun’s rays. I then begin to read a nice summer novel by Mary Higgins Clark, one of my favorite authors.

But wait, I’m not a teenager anymore. What if I become so engrossed in the novel that I lose sight of my kids? And how in the world will I ever find them on this beach that’s suddenly become so overcrowded? 

Okay, I need to talk myself off the ledge, so in my happy place, I’m envisioning my kids at home with an incredibly competent babysitter. No, make that my mother. And my father, who’s  a cop in the city but has the day off. Yes, much better.

But hold on, is that another parent’s child I hear crying out, and are they tumbling around on the surf, caught in some violent riptide? And am I really willing to risk life and limb for what I think could be another’s child in grave danger, but on the other hand, could very well be one of those annoying seagulls squawking about like a gluttonous fool? 

Well, at this point, I’m just exhausted, and so stressed that I can actually feel my blood pressure rising as the hairs on my head turn gray and drop to the sand one by one, like little dead soldiers.

And speaking of soldiers… You don’t want to know; I mean, the unspeakable tragedies of war…

Pass the drugs already. The hangover can’t possibly be worse than visiting my happy place.

Need more fun reads? Check ’em out at the MockingOwl Roost!

• Disengaged – Rom-Com Flash Fiction
• Prize – a Dark Humor Tale
• Where Would I Be Without You? – Dark, Comedy Romance Fiction
• Squirrel – Humorous Fiction
• Hanson Opperknockity – a Short Story
• Order Up – Dark Flash Fiction
• A Deal is a Deal – Flash Fiction

EJ Moran

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EJ Moran began writing short stories several years ago. While she favors the stories of O’Henry and J.D. Salinger, she has interests in varied genres, including contemporary literature and non-fiction. She is currently working on two other short stories which will be completed shortly, and in her spare time, enjoys writing alphabet poems for her daughter's Kindergarten class. She lives and works in the Northern New Jersey, USA area.

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