Sleep had been like a complicated jigsaw that had tipped onto the floor.
Pieces here, there and everywhere.
A lid unfound.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach car park in the van at 7-04 a.m.
They had a blowy wind and Radio Tees for company.
It was still as dark as night.
Out in the bay and along the horizon, lights flashed.
It looked like coded messages.
The van rocked from side to side in the strong wind.
A man walked the Promenade.
He was wearing a coat that was completely reflective.
The coat shone silver as he passed under the Promenade Lights.
The reflected light made him look like a foil-wrapped Christmas Turkey on the run.
They headed down the beach access ramp.
It was 7-26.
It felt milder than what the strong wind had suggested.
Beach Buoy pulled up three hoods.
Spots of pea-shooter rain hit the outermost hood.
It was still dark but a light hint of light blue appeared in the sky to the south.
The lighter sky was a backdrop to inkblot clouds.
It looked like a card that a psychiatrist would hand you.
"What do you see in the spots?"
"January."
They headed south.
Silouettes of the 7 a.m. club were down at the water's edge heading back to the north.
The tide was out beyond The Seaton Carew Wreck.
The white edge of the sea, were now visible in the half light.
Three hoods came down.
They were walking into a headwind.
A headwind that was making the combined hoods act as a parachute.
The beach underfoot turned black as they crossed a large patch if seacoal, maybe the size of half a football pitch.
Light slowly began to increase.
The sound of the Gulls cries also increased as if they were in sync.
Beach Buoy paused
He looked North.
The beach looked deserted of others.
A bright moon looked down as if doing a head count but only when passing clouds would allow.
They made their way towards Stubborn Dog Stack.
The dune edge looked higher than ever.
