The Back Shore......

    The back shore in late afternoon, a vast stretch of stones and pebbles, the tide right out leaving metres of sand exposed. Dead jellyfish dot the wet beach. Clear with purple rings - the harmless ones. They lie there, dead and still but somehow no more alive than when you see them pulsing through the water in the bay.
    A dog barks n the distance, the owner throws something into the water for it. The dog bounds into the sea, no hesitation, and retrieves the object. Back to his master for another throw, an unending circle of throwing and retrieving begins.
    I walk along the sand, up to the stones and sit down. The sea is calm before me, the sky reflected on it’s surface, orange from the sunset. My headphones round my neck, I put R.E.M on and turn the volume up to full blast. Sadness swells in my chest as I listen to it, the familiar sounds reminding me of Dad.

    Dog and man have moved off now, leaving the beach empty and me alone. The music’s actually quite good although I am ,of course, obligated to hate it since Dad likes it. Funny, the politics of families. I’d love to just chat to him right now - tell him what I’ve been up to. 

    Two people are coming along the beach from the village. Hand in hand, they are obviously a couple. The woman’s scarf drifts lazily over her shoulder. They pass and carry on along the beach until their voices fade out of earshot. I’m left alone again but I’m not really alone am I? No. Two seagulls land on the beach, squabbling, eyeing each other, beady eyes staring. They flap their and off they go, chattering and swooping, the currents holding them high in the air.

    I shiver, pulling my jacket closer around me - it’s getting cold - time to go home.