Before the boys in the basement, though, it was our island.  It remains shrouded in imagination and today’s apparent reality.  In other words, it still exists, secluded, with palm trees waving, the sea breeze misting, it’s the type of beach setting we watched on Return to the Blue Lagoon, only better; it belongs to me and Tiffany.  Others, rotating men, are allowed to visit for as long as they behave, then banishment.  It’s not hard to get kicked off the island.

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