Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-15 p.m.
The litter pick lady with a Scottie Dog did too.
They had a brief chat about a Cyclist that rushed by, along The Esplanade.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog made their way to the strand-line.
A Grey Horse trotted by.
Beach Buoy couldn't remember ever seeing a Grey Horse.
It looked beautiful.
It looked like a perfect horse.
Squint your eyes, it could be a Unicorn.
Squint your imagination and it may have escaped from a merry go round.
Mary Poppins in the saddle and Bert and the other chimney sweeps dancing behind, thumbs in lapels of their jackets.
"Cor Blimey and no mistake!"
"Evening Mate."
It was 6-39.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He was about to sit on the driftwood wedge about a metre long.
Afterall, that is what the script stipulated.
A mass of crawling ants had other ideas.
A quick redraught took place.
BEACH BUOY STANDS LOOKING OUT TO SEA AS HE SIPS WATER FROM A GREEN BOTTLE.
"See you mate."
EXIT STAGE LEFT.
Stage left led them along the "easy" route.
The elderly man with his elderly greyhound.
Arm in arm became piggyback for a couple down by the sea.
Slow walk back.
BEACH BUOY.
