 |
| A day off. Beach Buoy had been awake for ages. He laid in bed in the darkness of the bedroom. He swung an arm into the direction of his mobile phone that was on charge, on bedside cabinet. 6-15, glowed the phone. There had been days in the summer when he would have already have been sat down with his mate Stubborn Dog at the Grey Rocks, having a sit and think at 6-15am. It wasn't summer now. Today was Dark Nights Eve. 😮😮😮😮😮 The clocks are put back one hour tomorrow at 2 am in the morning... and so it begins...... Beach Buoy trundled downstairs, the little dog by his side. The Dog could tell it was a day off; he just knew it. As Beach Buoy entered the kitchen, he could hear rainfall as it landed on the roof of the extension, at the rear of the house. The Little Dog seemed keen to know what the plans were? He was making constant eye contact with Beach Buoy; his paws were tap dancing on the kitchen's laminate flooring to the tune of Singing' in the Rain. Beach Buoy didn't head for the kettle, choosing a glass of fresh orange juice as this morning's beach fuel instead. He grabbed Stubborn Dog and placed him in the van and ... SMASH! The Mirrored Glass on the passenger door slid off its mounting like a wet fish sliding off the deck of a listing boat. It hit the ground. To be more precise it hit the ground and shattered into many pieces. Seven years bad luck? Will be lucky to last seven more years. Beach Buoy doesn't 'do' superstitions anymore. Beach Buoy wandered about the drive, picking up as many pieces of it that he could see; pieces reflecting the nearby street light. To be honest the warning signs had been there, as the mirror had developed a bit of a wobble in recent weeks. Not a problem. It is a sixteen-year-old van and 'stuff ' happens. At time of writing, a replacement is already ordered for collection on Monday. Beach Buoy headed for the car park. He then headed back for his Beach book, that had been left in the fuss of the broken mirror saga. Then Beach Buoy headed for the beach once more. He readied himself and Stubborn Dog for the pouring rain. He also readied two fluffy towels for their return; Grey for the dog; blue and white stripes for Beach Buoy. Then they hit the beach at 7-30 am as a figure headed Northwards on the water's edge. They headed South. After a short while the 7 am club came into view. They had already reached the Pier and were heading back. Mari, the large Poodle came bounding over, sporting a green waterproof coat. She was given a good neck scratch as her owner shouted across to Beach Buoy.... ' She thinks the world of you!' 'It's Mutual' replied Beach Buoy. Another of the club's dogs was desperate to come over. A small brown, cute as you like dog. He too had a coat and was wearing a green glowing collar that looked like a slipped halo. Beach Buoy crouched down, called him over and gave him a stroke. The little wet Dog seemed happy They all went their separate ways; as you do. |
 |
| Soon the 7 am club were distant dots. The rain was making it difficult to make notes in his beach book. The damp pages were stopping the pens from working. The scribbles lookied more like morse code than writing. So Beach Buoy made a mental note to put pencils in his beach bag for next time. Beach Buoy carried two stones up to the dunes for 'that' pile, then headed back down to the beach and the North Gare Pier beyond. He thought he saw something out a sea.. A Seal? A Dolphin? A Whale? or maybe just rocks?.....the tide was well out. BEACH BUOY. |
