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Pamela hopped up and grinned at us. “Alright, go to your cabins, get showered and change clothing. When you’re done come back here for breakfast. Your room numbers and keys are on the reverse of your name cards.”
We scattered to our tasks. I was in cabin number 8. I found it and saw my duffle bag on a large, at least queen sized, quilt-covered bed. The cabin was practically all bedroom, with a door at the back opened to reveal a sink. It was rustic, but it was also comforting. I didn’t see any bugs, and the bathroom was spotlessly clean. I laid out an outfit from my duffle on the bed and took my clothing off to go shower.

The body wash and shampoo in the shower smelled of flowers, a light delicate scent. I felt the tension of the previous night melt away under the hot water pounding on my back. I finally convinced myself to leave the shower and dried off on a big fluffy towel, also provided by the retreat.

My skin felt delightfully soft, and I wondered if the shower water was from a mineral hot spring as I carefully put on my sensible black cotton underclothes, a brown short sleeved blouse and a khaki colored knee-length skort. I pulled my dark wet hair back into a bun and slipped on my sandals.