"That woman is beautiful." Henry gestured toward her back.
The bellboy smirked. Henry followed him to his room.
Henry lay in the sun for two weeks and grew younger day by day. His skin tanned, his muscles became hard with the exertion of lengthy swims, the creases in his face smoothed out. Still he felt vaguely dissatisfied, empty. He lay on the beach, gazing into the ocean, and knew that something was missing.
The woman he had seen that first night crossed between him and the ocean and continued down the beach. Henry watched her out of sight.
"That woman is beautiful," he thought.
Sex, he thought. I wonder if that's what's missing. There was another aspect to be considered, of course. Two hundred and forty-five. And then a blonde young lady in a bikini wavered by him and he knew in that moment that he could.
He stood up and walked after her.
"I wonder if I might walk a bit with you," he said.
She looked him over carefully and then shrugged her shoulder, not quite dislodging the upper portion of her suit. "Suitcha self."