The side door of the van slid shut.
It was 3-32 pm.
It was a Thursday.
The air was still, the car park busy.
The tide was low, they headed for the water's edge, beyond the patches of sea coal.
They headed south.
The clouds were dramatic.
A glow from the west, attracted them to the dunes.
The setting sun made the clouds look like volcanic lava.
They stacked Stubborn Dog Stack.
They paused and savoured the emptiness of the beach.
Seagulls headed out to sea.
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog headed north.
The darkness claimed the day.
Before they knew what had hit them, it was 4-30.
It was dark .
Beach Buoy.
