A Monday after a weekend Christmas.
Beach Buoy was off work for a good while.
He woke at 5 a.m.
Ten minutes before what would have been an alarm call for work.
He listened to the silence beyond the window blinds, in the outside world.
5-30 a.m.
Kettle on.
Coffee.
Toasted Teacake.
Beach Buoy let Another Dog into the back garden.
He did one of those four second weather checks whilst the door was open.
No rain.
No wind.
It did feel a little milder than it was yesterday.
He sat in a dimly lit room drinking coffee.
A Fog Buzzer sounded out, it buzzed around the room like a Winter Bee.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off.
They drove down an avenue of street lights.
The lights were like shower heads, spraying light into the dark and misty morning.
They drove into the beach car park.
As they did, the man who walks the car park wearing headphones was caught mid-stumble in the van's headlights.
He can't have heard the van coming.
He was wearing black and seemed to appear from the shadows of the golf club fence.
He averted a full fall, so carried on walking to the beat.
The radio was on in the van.
It was that time of year when the regulars have holidays.
Other presenters are shoehorned into slots that they most probably long to call their own anyway?
Beach Buoy parked up.
All year fairy lights were switched on.
A Cycle lamp headed south along the Promenade with a cyclist on tow.
A shadow of a man walked to the end of the promenade.
He looked like he had been left behind on a sunny day. Scampering around waiting for the sun's return so that he could make good his escape.
7-07 a.m.
They made a move.
It was still over an hour to sunrise.
They left the van as the December Trouser Man shuffled his was along the Promenade.
It was dark.
Torch and moonlight lit the way.
Sounds swirled in the air alongside the ghost-like mist.
Gulls, Sea and an Oyster Catcher that gave the impression that it was trying to restore order, sounded out.
The Village lights were lost to the fog.
As eyes adjusted and light increased slightly, it became apparent that the sea wasn't as far out as it had sounded.
A man with two Black Dogs overtook them as he walked the dune edge.
Soon afterwards the man and his Dogs were heading back to the car park.
Beach Buoy collected seven stones as he aimed himself and Another Dog
towards
Stubborn Dog Stack.
It was 7-51 a.m.
"Morning Mate."
He placed the seven and patted
THE
one.
Beach Buoy stood looking out to sea for a short while turning 360 degrees to view the surroundings.
"See you Mate."
They headed back to the beach, then north.
Then it hit him like a rouge wave.
Full blown grief.
It was just the thought of leaving his little mate behind.
It felt selfish grieving about his dog when there is so much tragedy in the world.
But...
you feel how you feel.
Ain't that the truth?
He composed himself, a figure of a person was up ahead.
The figure and a dog approached.
It was the distant wave lady and her dog.
"Hiya, are you alright?"
"Hiya, yes thanks.
you?"
"Yeah."
They chatted about the wait for dark mornings to brighten.
They went their separate ways.
There had been a Parcel of Oyster Catchers down by the water's edge.
Beach Buoy gave them a wide berth so as not to disturb them.
Another beach walker scattered them.
The parcel became letters, each flying in the air.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed for the van.
Their walk was done.
Others were just starting theirs.
BEACH BUOY.
